Cursed Disease
by The Cloaked Ghost
Summary: <html><head></head>When Damon gets sick from an unidentified curse, it's up to Stefan and Bonnie to find a cure, however a face from Damon's past may be their only hope. How long can they keep the truth from Elena while she's safe at Whitmore? -Delena-</html>
1. In Need

_A/N: _This story is set just after the episode _Rescue Me, _though, that being said, there'll be no mentions of Liv or her brother or the travellers or Markos. Just imagine this as a universe where everything currently _isn't _going to Hell and everyone has time to do normal teenager stuff.

This story is Delena-based, and I can assure you my OC won't be getting in the way of that. My OC... well, you'll find out more about them later. I should also warn you that this story involves some scenes of graphic sickness on Damon's behalf, so if that's not your thing, you might as well turn back now. If you're still here, then by all means, read on.

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><p><strong>Cursed Disease<strong>

_Chapter 1_

_"In Need"_

Stefan rarely dreamed nowadays.

Of course, that wasn't entirely true. Thousands of studies had proved that when a person claimed not to dream, it wasn't that they didn't, it simply meant that they couldn't recall them. Stefan wasn't sure if it was the same for vampires, but it didn't matter. Whether he chose not to dream or couldn't physically wasn't an issue. Honestly, it was safer. Ever since he let Elena go, he had worried constantly about whether the next dream he had would take the form of a life they would never have together. Then, of course, things were made worse when he had been attacked by Silas. He no longer feared the dreams where he and Elena were happy; instead he would have revelled in them had it meant not reliving drowning a thousand times over. The pain of his lungs collapsing in on themselves, weighed down by gallons of water rushing down his throat, suffocating him. He'd had nightmares that bled into his reality, sneaking up on him even when he was conscious. The late Katherine Pierce had helped him with that, but even still, Stefan didn't let himself dream.

It was why, in the dark depths of his attic bedroom, Stefan was startled to find himself awoken by a loud _THUMP _before the first light of day had even bled through his window.

It was odd that just a few days ago, the Salvatore Boarding House had been crawling with life, both the living kind and the _undead. _Jeremy had been living there - the only human heart beat -alongside Elena. Now, Jeremy had moved in at Tyler's house and Elena… Elena had moved back to Whitmore. It had been a hard choice, Stefan knew that. And, though he despised the fact that Elena had chosen Damon over him, he still felt bad for the both of them, knowing just how hard this strain on their relationship was. In many ways, Elena and Damon were toxic for each other; it was the reason why the two had _more or less _mutually agreed to keep their distance. But there was also a connection between them, an electric spark that Stefan was more than aware of that made _keeping their distance _a very hard promise to keep. Despite everything, Stefan couldn't deny the facts. Elena and Damon were in love and the realisation that they were toxic together wasn't going to stop that.

So, at present, the Boarding House was once again home to the Salvatore brothers alone. With eyes still dazed from a dreamless sleep, Stefan reached blindly out towards his nightstand, grasping hopelessly for his phone. Once he found the device, he switched the screen on, squinting momentarily as the time blared brightly against his face.

_3.00AM_

Curiosity spiked at Stefan's mind. The sound he heard had definitely come from within the house and, considering Damon was the only other person residing inside, it wasn't much of a jump to guess who had been the cause. Still, Stefan couldn't help but wonder what his older brother was _doing _at three in the morning.

The noise came again, and this time, confirmed Stefan's suspicions. With the use of his heightened senses, Stefan could pinpoint the sound to its exact location. Damon's bedroom.

Stefan stifled an eye roll. If Damon was awake, it probably meant he'd never been asleep in the first place. Ever since their mutual _semi break-up_, Damon had been drinking himself into a stupor at any chance he got. Emotions were not Damon's strong point, after all. He either cared too much or not at all and, honestly, Stefan wasn't sure which one made Damon more dangerous. As of now, Damon hadn't done anything too reckless, but Stefan knew that was all for Elena. Damon still felt like he could be redeemed in her eyes and Stefan knew his brother didn't want to do anything to screw it up. Not after what he had done last time. Not after killing Aaron.

And, of course, despite _everything _Damon had put him through, despite all the years of pain and suffering, Stefan still cared about his brother, how could he not? He cared enough to know that Elena was probably the best thing that had happened to Damon in a long time. Though Damon would never consider himself the hero of any story, Elena kept him on a path that tore away from bloodshed and disaster. Elena made him good; Elena made him _happy. _But there was no Elena, not right now… which was probably why Stefan was forcing himself out of bed at three in the morning.

Stefan was just preparing for the inevitable lecture he'd be giving his brother about drinking away your problems (and more importantly draining the house of booze) when the next sound caught him off guard. The loud, unmistakable _CRASH _and _clatter _of something shattering.

A spasm of panic rocked Stefan as he stood deadly still, rooted to the spot. Closing his eyes, Stefan willed all of his concentration into his heighted senses. The crash had come from Damon's room, but that wasn't all. The noises continued. He thought he could hear a struggle, at the very least a sound desperate enough to warrant someone's attention. Stefan's defences rose all at once and, without a second thought, he blurred out of his bedroom.

The tap in the bathroom of Damon's ensuite was running at full blast, very deliberately distorting the sounds of anyone that might be inside. Still, Stefan could hear something, however faint, from within. A sound of desperation, of pain. It was what fuelled Stefan's next move as he barged directly into his older brother's bedroom at gone three in the morning.

The first thing Stefan noticed was Damon's bed. It was empty, the sheets ruffled, halfway pooled across the floor. There were an array of scotch bottles and empty glasses lying scattered on various pieces of furniture and, as Stefan scanned the room, he noticed a vase that had once sat on the drawer closest to the bathroom was now shattered into jagged pieces strewn hazardously across the wooden floorboards. None of this was important to Stefan at that moment though, for now that he was stood inside Damon's bedroom, not even the running faucet could mask the sounds that his brother had so desperately wanted to hide from him. With a sinking feeling in his gut, Stefan recognised the sounds as someone retching.

Vampires rarely threw up. It was the ultimate 'fuck you' to a vampire's lifestyle to get sick with the very blood that kept you from slowly and painfully desiccating into a mummified husk. But, despite that being said, there was no denying what lay directly in front of Stefan's eyes.

Damon was knelt in front of the toilet, his face partially obscured by his own dark locks of sweat-soaked hair. Stefan felt a sudden, very unfamiliar surge of fear clench at his gut as he stood there, practically paralysed in the bathroom's entryway. That was, until, Damon choked with another violent heave that sent a torrent of stale, undigested blood plummeting into the toilet bowl. He didn't look good, even in the dim setting of the bathroom it was hard to overlook how pale he was. Damon's breathing was coming out in short ragged gasps as clutched onto the toilet seat and, though Stefan's chest was tight with fear, he knew he had to do something, _anything _to help his brother.

"Hello, Stefan," Damon said, shocking Stefan out of his thoughts. Damon's voice was choked and dry, but he still managed to sound thoroughly unimpressed by his brother's presence in his bedroom.

With that said, Stefan finally found his voice. "Damon, what happened?"

Damon shrugged weakly before bending in over himself; a painful grimace etched his features as he wrapped one arm tightly around his abdomen. "I don't- I don't know," he choked.

"What did you do?" Even as he spoke, Stefan was moving, somewhat unthinkingly, towards his brother.

"Why do you think it was something _I did?_" Damon asked with faint indignation. Grimacing, he spat blood into the toilet bowl.

The smell of stale blood mixed with acidic bile was unappetising to say the least. Still, Stefan leant down over his brother and, very carefully, hooked an arm under his shoulder. Stefan could feel the panic slowly rising inside of him as well as hear dozens of voices from his own psyche that were scrambling over one another in an attempt to rationalise what was going on. Vampires couldn't get _sick_, not in the conventional sense and Damon… Damon hadn't been out of Stefan's sight in the last two days. As the panic escalated to dread, Stefan heard Damon give a faint whimper from where he was knelt against the floor, partially held upright by Stefan's lingering grip. Stefan closed his eyes. Projecting negative emotions was not going to help Damon; he had to remain level-headed for his brother's sake.

Swallowing hard, Stefan gestured towards the toilet bowl. "Are you-"

Damon seemed to sense what Stefan was about to ask for he suddenly shook his head, closing his eyes tightly as he did so. "Gimme a minute," he gasped, pulling himself out of Stefan's hold just enough to push himself back towards the toilet bowl. Stefan gripped Damon's shoulder in an unconscious gesture of support. He didn't know what was wrong with Damon, but he knew his brother needed comfort; anything to show that he wasn't alone in this. Not anymore.

Within seconds, Damon's faced paled as he swallowed convulsively. With a few painful gags he managed to vomit up what Stefan hoped was the last of the blood causing his brother damage. Damon was left violently dry heaving into the toilet before he managed to catch his breath, his forehead pressed firmly against the cool toilet seat, shoulders taut with the added stress that had been weighed onto his body. Finally, Damon gave a curt nod, though his eyes remained closed. "I'm done," he murmured.

Stefan stood at a respectable distance from his brother as he waited for him to regain some of his strength. He knew if he tried to help Damon outright, he'd probably be refused. Stefan knew his brother and the one thing he knew Damon hated above all else was being seen as weak. If Stefan could help Damon without bruising his ego in the process, he'd count today's course of events as a minor win on his side.

Damon managed to pull himself away from the toilet, flushing away the contents with a look of mild disgust on his face. Afterwards, he propped himself against the bathtub, his legs – very uncharacteristically - drawn up against his chest. His arms dangled limply across his knees as his eyes glared brightly outwards at nothing in particular. Stefan couldn't pretend he wasn't getting impatient, because he was. Everything about Damon's demeanour was wrong, and maybe not everyone would have been able to see that, but Stefan had had a century and a half's worth of practice. Damon was sick; which was impossible in itself, but there was something more terrifying to Stefan in the way that Damon was sat, so thoroughly exhausted, against the bathtub. Stefan folded his arms across his chest, rocking back on his heels.

"You need to rest," Stefan noted finally.

Damon blinked slowly, dazedly, as though he'd been somewhere else entirely. "Just gimme a minute," he croaked, wincing at his own strained vocals.

Stefan felt his fists clench. "If you're done, then you need to rest."

Damon shook his head. "I-I can't."

There was something entirely vulnerable about how Damon spoke that made Stefan immediately stiffen. "What do you mean you _can't?_" Stefan asked warily, feeling the all too familiar sense of dread creep up on him again.

Damon wouldn't look at Stefan, and this time there was no exception. He kept his gaze fixed firmly on the furthest wall even as he tried to explain himself. "It's too bright."

Stefan's gaze immediately moved to Damon's ring finger. "You have your daylight ring," he said before turning back towards Damon's bedroom. The sun hadn't risen yet; the only light in the room came from the artificial ones on the ceiling. Stefan's brows knitted together in confusion. Come to think of it, none of the lights had been turned on in the bathroom.

Damon tilted his head towards the bedroom, evidently proving Stefan's dawning suspicions correct. "The lights were giving me a headache," he said before swallowing thickly. "It made me sick."

Stefan frowned uncertainly. What did it mean if a vampire suddenly became sensitive to any form of light? "When did this start?" Stefan asked abruptly.

Damon shrugged; his eyes were beginning to droop. "When I woke up," he muttered.

"Not before today?"

Damon shook his head.

"So this all came on during the night? You didn't feel sick at all yesterday?"

"I think I'd recall if I felt like I was dying, Stefan," Damon said sarcastically as he brought his head down to rest against his knees.

Stefan's gaze, which had been intensely fixed to the floor, suddenly targeted Damon again. "What's your diet been like?"

Damon snorted weakly. "No vampires, if that's what you're worried about."

"It wasn't," Stefan said grimly.

Now it was Damon's turn to look at Stefan. His eyes were glazed with an underlying exhaustion that he was obviously trying to keep hidden, but he still managed to look offended by Stefan's accusation. "Oh come _on, _a few days without Elena and you think I'm back to eating people?"

Stefan might have had more reason to believe the hurt in Damon's voice had it not been for his recent derailment involving a certain British-accented ex-cell mate of his. Stefan sighed in exasperation. "I don't know what to think right now, Damon."

Damon managed a very telling eye roll before tearing his gaze from Stefan once again. "I haven't drunk from anyone, okay? Hell, you've been watching me often enough to see that. Besides who would I drink from? Half of this freaking town is on v-vervain." Damon's last few words were cut short as his chest heaved and he was launched into a very abrupt coughing fit.

Stefan immediately abandoned his plan to give his brother space and instead moved to his side. He held Damon steady as he continued to cough harshly into his hand, his body wracked with pained shudders. Finally, the coughing fit abated, leaving Damon breathing roughly, his eyes bright and bewildered. Evidently, the coughing was a new symptom.

"You've got to lie down, Damon," Stefan said once again, this time his voice more sparing. "At least until we can figure this out."

Damon looked to his brother incredulously. "Have you _not been listening? _I can't go out there, unless you want a repeat of _this,_" Damon nodded unenthusiastically at the toilet, "then I suggest you _do something about it_."

Stefan nodded his understanding. "I'll turn the lights off; draw the curtains for when dawn comes." Taking a deep breath, Stefan moved towards Damon's bedroom, throwing a final few words over his shoulder as he did so: "Stay there."

Damon pressed his face against his knees dejectedly. "Like I have a choice."

Once the curtains were drawn and the lights were turned out, Stefan began the very arduous task of coaxing an exhausted Damon back to bed. Damon leaned heavily against Stefan as he dragged him the short space between the bathroom and his bed which raised all kinds of red flags in itself. Then, of course, there was the fact that under such close proximity it was hard to ignore the fact that Damon's body was practically radiating heat, and with it, the raw scent of growing sickness. None of those were good signs, and none of them made any sense. When Damon was finally laid out against his mattress, Stefan sank into one of the armchairs near his bedside. He could practically hear the gears clanking in his head as he tried to figure out what was happening to his brother.

The moment Damon hit the sheets; he fell into a barely conscious state. His chest rose and fell unevenly, giving way the only sign to Stefan that he was still awake. Now Stefan had nothing else to do except assess the state Damon was in. His forehead shone with the first trickles of sweat from an oncoming fever, but Stefan had expected that, especially after he'd felt the unnatural heat that emitted from his brother's body. Moving his gaze downwards, Stefan could see that Damon's eyes were lightly shadowed, just barely visible under the dim light that bled in through the cracks under the doorway. He had exhausted himself, of course he had. His body had just rejected the only food source that would do him any good.

That was all Stefan could think about. If Damon was telling the truth and he hadn't been drinking from any live blood-sources, then blood contamination was practically out of the picture. It was a very rare circumstance anyway, like a Chinese whisper that got passed down from vampire to vampire. Stefan remembered Lexi joking about it once or twice; but that was in the old days, back when blood diseases were a lot harder to track. Now with modern technology, 'contaminated blood bags' was a very unrealistic concept, especially for what was happening to Damon. From what Stefan could remember, blood poisoning only affected a vampire's digestion. They'd reject the blood and, after a few hours, they'd be back to terrorising helpless victims again. Damon didn't look like he'd be doing that any time soon.

"What're you doing?" Damon's voice croaked.

The younger Salvatore glanced down to meet a pair of fever-glazed blue eyes in the darkness. Stefan felt an immediate twist of guilt in his stomach; simply because at the moment there was nothing he could say or do that could possibly help with Damon's situation.

"I know this is a stupid question," Stefan said quietly, "but you haven't been near any werewolves… or hybrids recently?"

Damon flashed a smile that didn't quite reach his eyes. "You think I was bitten?"

Stefan shrugged exhaustedly. "Or poisoned with their venom… it's the only thing I can think of that could cause these symptoms."

Damon's eyes softened before he gave his brother a scrutinizing look. Stefan knew what he was doing; after so many years of the two being enemies, it was still hard for Damon to accept when Stefan was truly trying to help him. When Stefan showed that he actually cared. Finally, Damon shifted against his pillow, but Stefan didn't miss the small wince of pain he gave as a result. "I hate to disappoint you, brother, but I've been on the receiving end of a wolf bite before." Damon glanced away from Stefan, looking mildly dejected. "I know what it feels like and _this,_" he shook his head tiredly; "this isn't it."

Stefan wasn't sure what to make of that answer. On the one side he was grateful. Grateful for the fact that he wouldn't have to track his way to New Orleans and beg Klaus for the cure. On the other hand, this left him off right back where he started. He didn't know what he was dealing with, and, more importantly, he had no way of telling whether it could be fatal.

Stefan felt his fingers clench firmly into the leather arms of the chair. Damon noticed it too; though his eyes only flickered lazily before he shifted in position. "I'm tired," he said finally.

"Then sleep," Stefan muttered.

Damon looked at his brother accusingly. "With you watching me like some kind of guard dog? _Pass._"

Stefan's eyes narrowed. "I can't leave you."

Damon groaned exaggeratedly and, using his arm as leverage, managed to roll himself onto his back. He glared up at the ceiling, placing his arms across his chest. "I'm not gonna desiccate in the night, you know."

Stefan rolled his eyes in exasperation. He supposed he should be relieved that Damon still maintained his usual air of sarcasm, even when he had just vomited up his only food source. Still, there was something that sounded forced about it now, more so than usual. "I'll check on you in a few hours," Stefan agreed after a few moments of consideration. "If something happens or you get sick again, you tell me okay?"

Damon only rolled his eyes in response. There was nothing of the vulnerability Stefan had witnessed when Damon had been recovering in the bathroom. All of his usual defences were back up and running, but Stefan knew that wouldn't be enough. He could see it in the way Damon's chest hitched before it fell, the way that, even now, sweat continued to trickle down across his forehead. Stefan made a mental note to bring some cool cloths in after Damon's few hours were up. He wasn't going to leave him too long, he told himself. Just long enough for Damon to get some decent rest. In that time, he'd try to think of anything else that could cause sickness in a vampire because, so far the list wasn't very long and… the further he gave himself time to think about it, the closer he came to a very unsettling theory.

With a final nod in Damon's direction, Stefan left his brother to rest.


	2. Curse

_A/N: _Wow, thank you for the positive reviews you guys! I honestly wasn't sure what to expect, but I'm glad you want me to continue. I'd just like to take a moment to reassure my readers that this is a strictly _Delena _fic and does not pair Stefan/Elena, however you will have to wait a few chapters before we get into the Delena stuff, so apologies for the build-up. I hope you'll enjoy this next chapter nonetheless.

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><p><strong>Cursed Disease<strong>

_Chapter 2_

_"Curse"_

Damon Salvatore felt like crap.

He'd managed to fade in and out of consciousness for a few hours, but that was as far as he'd gotten and - for whatever reason - every time Damon woke, he seemed to feel worse than the last.

His fever had gotten worse, or maybe it had stayed the same, he wasn't too sure. The last time he'd been fully conscious he'd been puking his guts up, so maybe he hadn't been paying that much attention to his temperature. Either way, he was burning up now. Damon just didn't know what he wanted to do. One minute he felt like his room was a freaking sauna and the next he was wrestling with the sheets to get warm. Now his body ached and complained every time he tried to change his position, which, by the way, he realised, was _a lot. _He couldn't get comfortable, his skin was practically burning and, to make matters worse, the coughing hadn't gotten any better.

Vomiting hadn't been fun the first time 'round and Damon was adamant not to try it again, but that was a very hard promise to keep when every coughing fit set his stomach on edge. He hated all of it. Feeling weak - being completely incapable of controlling his own body. This was the one thing a vampire was never supposed to deal with, unless they were dying, which Damon vaguely considered as a possibility.

And to add insult to injury, every time Damon found his body trying to hack out one of his lungs, he could hear Stefan shift uncomfortably from down in the parlour. He knew Stefan was worried about him, damn, _he _was worried about him, but it didn't help that his brother had an annoying habit of feeling guilty about things that were by no means his fault. He'd gotten so agitated by Stefan's continuous shifting that he'd started coughing purposely into his pillow. Any way to drown the noise out so his brother wouldn't hear and _somehow _blame himself for Damon's misfortune.

_That's what the heroes do_, Damon thought to himself as he stared bitterly into the darkness.

Finally, after giving up on trying to get a decent night's sleep, Damon heard Stefan move from his position downstairs. Distantly, Damon realised that he shouldn't have been able to hear Stefan at all. After all, he wasn't putting any concentration into heightening his hearing; if anything, the pounding in his head should have drowned out any kind of background noise. Still, he shrugged it off, there was no point concerning himself with it, not when he knew that his few hours of Stefan-less bliss were up.

Damon bit back a groan as Stefan opened the door, letting a stream of light flood in from the hall. He heard Stefan mutter a quick apology, but the damage had already been dealt. Damon shoved a pillow over his head as he gritted his teeth, trying to fight the wave of agony that attacked his skull in response to the bright light. He could taste the acidic bite of bile at the back of his throat and swallowed convulsively to keep it at bay. Did he mention that he hated all of this?

"Damon?" Stefan's voice was closer now, extending somewhere from the general vicinity of the chair he'd very nearly vandalised earlier that same morning. Damon swallowed a few more times before he felt it safe to release his head from the security of his pillow. Even when he'd lifted it from his face, he kept his eyes at the barest squint, just barely making out Stefan's outline where he sat a few feet away.

"I can hear you," Damon said, immediately regretting his decision to talk. His tongue felt like sandpaper scratching against his throat and his voice sounded just as bad in comparison. All the coughing and puking had really done a number on him. He let out a soft moan before pressing his head back against his pillow.

"You don't sound good," Stefan noted.

_Tell me something I don't know, brother, _Damon thought sarcastically, but all he could manage verbally was a choked noise that sounded halfway between a laugh and a groan of pain.

"Fortunately… I think I might know what's wrong with you," Stefan continued. Judging by the grimness of his tone, Damon knew he wouldn't like his brother's answer. Still, it was an answer, and right now he just wanted to know a way to cure this damned thing.

Damon nodded, because right now it was the best he could do. Stefan seemed to realise this, for he continued with his explanation: "I was thinking… and there is absolutely nothing that can make a vampire sick, unless you count poison or werewolf venom; and being dead you aren't physically capable of catching something as common as the flu, so there's really only one other option that it _can_ be."

Damon already didn't like where this was going, but he didn't have the energy to fight his brother on the topic. Instead he closed his eyes and waited for Stefan to come right out and say it.

Stefan sucked in a breath. "I think it might be a spell," he said finally. "Or a curse, more specifically."

Damon pulled a face before sinking his head further into his pillow. He'd expected just as much; but hearing it out loud really didn't do much for his headache.

"There is, of course, one way to know for sure," Stefan said grimly.

Damon looked up weakly from his pillow. "Like what?" he croaked, hoping his hatred carried through in the form of the death glare he was shooting his brother.

Stefan lifted his hands in a mock surrender as he stood up from the chair. Damon watched him carefully, his head propped up against one of his arms, as Stefan moved towards the curtains. Damon stared at him disbelievingly. "Don't," he warned as Stefan hooked his fingers around the burgundy velvet. "Stefan, _don't!_"

In one swift move, Stefan pulled back the curtain a fraction of an inch. Just enough for a single solid streak of morning sunlight to stream in across Damon's unprotected hand. Damon let out a cry of pain as his skin burned raw on contact with the harsh daylight. He pulled his hand out in a blur of vampiric speed that propelled him half way across his bed, very nearly causing him to fall off the other end.

Damon stared murderously at his brother; though he supposed the look didn't carry much weight under the circumstances. Stefan only pulled the curtain back to its original spot in response, effectively cutting off the only light source in the bedroom. Damon let out a sigh of relief before collapsing back against his pillow. "What the _Hell _did you do that for?" Damon ground out through his burning throat.

"Just a little experiment," Stefan said simply, gesturing towards Damon's hand. Damon looked to where Stefan was pointing. He closed his eyes in sheer disbelief as the pounding in his head started up tenfold. There, on his finger, was his daylight ring as plain as day. Completely untouched.

"They always target the daylight ring, don't they?" Stefan said stiffly before crouching down to meet at Damon's level. "Which brings me to my next question."

Damon continued to glare at his brother in hopes that he might spontaneously combust.

Stefan returned the look with equal measure. "Tell me, brother. Just what witch did you manage to piss off this time?"

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><p>"Come on Damon, think harder, there has to be someone," Stefan said hopelessly as he flopped back into the arm chair. As much as he was trying to talk to Damon as though he wasn't suffering; he couldn't help the concern that clung to his words. Damon's state had only regressed in the few hours since Stefan had come to the <em>witchy <em>conclusion. His dark hair was plastered to his face with sweat and his eyes were distant and glazed with fever. Though Damon was talking, Stefan knew it was taking every ounce of his strength to continue the conversation.

"I don't _know, _okay?" Damon muttered against his pillow, already damp and discoloured from where he had been lying. Stefan felt an overwhelming urge to wipe Damon's sweat soaked bangs out of his face, but he knew the action would only be met with violence, especially considering Damon's current mood. Despite the fact that he looked weak enough to collapse on the spot, the glare he was shooting Stefan was practically murderous.

Damon let out a sparing sigh through his teeth. "I haven't been near any witches; _you _should know that, you haven't let me out of your sight for the last two d-days." Damon broke off to cough against his pillow. Stefan didn't miss the way his body spasmed in pain or how Damon's hand moved to unconsciously hold his throat.

"You need water," Stefan murmured.

"I _need _blood," Damon retorted.

Stefan shook his head exasperatedly. "I don't think that's a good idea, Damon."

Damon looked to his brother with a furious glint in is eye. Had he been at full strength, Stefan might have felt the need to protect himself. Instead, Stefan leant closer to his brother, an expert frown on his face.

Damon's mood was a telling sign of a vampire that had gone too long without feeding. Despite this, Stefan knew he couldn't risk it. He'd confirmed his fears; whatever was wrong with Damon was witch related, but until he got concrete information on the spell or _curse _that had been set in motion, feeding his brother blood was not the smartest thing to do.

Stefan looked away guiltily as Damon let out a muffled cry of pain. His body twisted under the sheets as his knuckles turned white with the force that he gripped his pillow. "It hurts," Damon managed to choke out. "Everything _hurts._"

Stefan knew the feeling. He'd starved himself after risking Elena's life to get a hold on Klaus; he'd also been starved as a means of torture during his darker Ripper days, back when Lexi was still trying to condition a new way of living into his head. She'd weakened him to the point of starvation and then continued the torture mentally, controlling every aspect of his mind. Depriving a vampire of blood was excruciating and within just a few hours of throwing up, Damon was already beginning to show those same signs. That's what scared Stefan more than anything.

Finally, after a second contortion of pain wracked Damon's body brought on by a very abrupt, very violent coughing fit, Stefan forced himself out of his chair. "I'll get you some blood," he said stiffly, watching as Damon managed to lift his head in means of a response. "But don't get your hopes up."

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><p>His throat was <em>burning. <em>It was excruciating, like a fire had been set off in his veins.

Absently, Damon knew he should have been concerned, but the fever was drowning out any kind of rational thought. Had he been rational, he would have known that feeling this way after just a few hours being deprived of blood was a very bad sign. His restraint was normally quite good, something Stefan was regularly envious of. Even on his darkest days - like when he had been tortured relentlessly by a certain blonde bombshell Original bitch – he'd been able to keep his cool long enough to get his hands on a blood bag. His restraint was never anyone's concern; it was simply his reckless behaviour that kept everyone occupied. The fact that he could go from a somewhat reasonable ally to 'I just kidnapped your boyfriend to make a point' psychotic was a trait that he was equal parts proud of and sickened by. Maybe he could spend the rest of his undead life blaming Katherine for making him into the monster he was, but there would always be a part of him, deep down, that knew the truth.

God fucking _damn it, _this must have been worse than he thought if he was contemplating his inner demons. At least trying to put his mind to work had somewhat lessened the pain, though the burning was still a constant presence, urging his body to find the nearest blood source and drain it dry. If Damon thought he could trust his body to stand up, he knew there wouldn't be anything stopping him from leaving the house and ripping some innocent human's head off. Not even Stefan; Stefan could join the pile of bodies if he tried to hold him back any more than he was already.

Damon let out a pained gasp, grinding his teeth as he tried to keep the violent thoughts away. The fever was messing with his head; the thirst was making him volatile. He knew that sooner or later, he'd lose it either way.

Then, the door opened.

* * *

><p>Stefan returned armed with a glass of water in one hand and a bucket holding two blood bags in the other. The moment he opened the door, he saw Damon perk up from where he was lying. There was a feral hunger in Damon's eyes that made Stefan wary about approaching him. Still, he moved towards the bed steadily, trying to ignore the obvious sickness that radiated from his older brother.<p>

When he was close enough, Stefan watched as Damon blearily tried to make out the objects in his hands. Once he had, he pulled a face. "What's with the bucket?"

Stefan placed the bucket next to Damon's bed with a sigh. He held out the glass of water to his brother to which Damon took after a moment's hesitation. Tentatively, he took a few sips, wincing slightly as the cool liquid slid down his burning throat.

"The bucket's a precaution," Stefan said simply. When Damon only looked at him, Stefan elaborated: "Your body rejected every ounce of blood in your system; I'm just saying we have to be careful. It could happen again."

Damon looked down at the bucket apprehensively. It was impossible to tell what he was thinking or how badly he felt, but he reached down for one of the blood bags nonetheless.

Stefan could see the primal need in Damon's body language now. It was strange seeing that wild hunger, a look he so often attributed to his own self-control, so openly present in Damon's demeanour. It was even harder to watch as the all too familiar tells of a vampire broke free across his face, something that rarely happened to Damon during a feed, unless of course he did it to purposely scare Stefan off. Black veins pulsed and writhed beneath the thin skin underside his progressively darkening eyes. The whites had almost turned completely red, making Damon's blue eyes all the brighter in the dark setting of his bedroom.

Damon winced as his fangs descended and cut into his lower lip. The smell of his own blood mixed with the bag in his hand was all Damon could handle before he was ripping the seal open with his teeth and forcing it towards his mouth.

Stefan hoped beyond all hope he was wrong about this, but even still, he wasn't surprised when Damon began choking on the blood before his first proper swallow. With the world feeling as though it were crashing and burning around him, Stefan mutely held the bucket up under Damon's chin as he started to heave.

Evidently, Damon hadn't managed to throw up all the blood before, because Stefan found himself rubbing comforting circles on his brother's back as he gagged and vomited another vicious torrent of red liquid into the bucket. Damon's knuckles were white where he clutched onto the rim, his entire body tense from overexertion. Even as he continued to struggle with his nausea, Stefan could hear Damon whispering quietly between dry heaves over the bucket.

"No, no, no," Damon muttered hoarsely as he finally managed to catch a breather. "This can't be _happening._"

Stefan could only hold his brother steady as he watched him sympathetically. "Damon, you have to stay calm."

"_Calm?_" Damon's head snapped up from the bucket so fast he had to close his eyes as a wave of vertigo took hold. Once it had passed he opened his eyes again, fixing the most murderous glare he could muster onto Stefan. "You want _me _to stay _calm? _I can't drink _blood _Stefan, what the Hell kinda curse is this?"

Stefan was about to say something, _anything _to keep Damon from losing it, when a sudden high pitched beeping caught him off guard.

Damon cried out in agony in response to the noise. Stefan watched as he crumpled over the bucket, eyes glimmering with unshed tears. Stefan could only guess that the elder vampire was putting all of his remaining strength into keeping himself from retching.

"What the Hell is that _sound?_" Damon ground out, closing his eyes tightly.

Stefan looked worriedly at his brother. "It's my phone, I texted Bonnie to ring me when she got my message." Under normal circumstances, Damon would have questioned why Stefan had been texting Bonnie in the early hours of the morning. At the very least, he'd have a snide remark on the subject. However, these weren't normal circumstances, and all that Damon said was: "Make. It. _Stop." _

Stefan answered the phone, effectively cutting off the beeping that was causing Damon such discomfort. Stefan watched guiltily as the tension lifted from his brother's shoulders. Damon breathed heavily as he pushed all the distance he could muster between himself and the bucket of his own vomit before promptly collapsing onto his side.

Stefan held his breath as he put the phone to his ear.

"Bonnie?"

"Stefan? What's this about? I got your texts, all six of them at _three in the morning. _What's going on?"

Stefan knew that Bonnie was agitated, and maybe under better circumstances he would have felt bad about that. But right now he couldn't tear his gaze from Damon who lay unmoving, but still very much awake, on the bed in front of him.

"Are you alone right now?" Stefan asked. When there was a pause on the other end, he reiterated, "There aren't any vampire prying ears?"

"No," Bonnie said suspiciously. "Caroline and Elena went for breakfast, I'm alone. Stefan, what's this about?"

Stefan took a deep breath, rubbing the bridge of his nose in equal parts exhaustion and exasperation. This was a conversation that could easily go one of two very different ways. "Damon's sick."

"Wait, _what? _How… _what?_"

Bonnie's confusion was to be expected, but Stefan didn't have the time to be gentle about it. "Damon's sick, as in fever, headaches, chills, everything."

"But I thought vampires couldn't get sick," Bonnie said slowly. She'd already gotten over the shock, which Stefan had anticipated. Bonnie was a bold young girl, she'd conquered her own death and the fact that she was now the anchor to the Other Side. Compared to that, this couldn't be worse.

"They can't," Stefan answered simply. "Not in the conventional sense anyway, that's why I called you. I've been through every other possibility already and there was only one conclusion I could make."

"You think its witch related." Bonnie didn't phrase it like a question.

Stefan nodded. "Whatever's wrong with him, it's not just physical symptoms; his daylight ring isn't working for him anymore, so yes, it's my best guess at the moment."

There was a brief pause on the other end whilst Bonnie sucked in a deliberating breath. "Stefan… I don't know what to tell you. I'm not a witch anymore; I can't perform any spells that could help."

Stefan closed his eyes as he heard Damon groan quietly where he was lying. "I know, and I'm sorry I've gotten you involved, but it's urgent." Stefan swallowed as he tried to keep his voice level. "Whatever's happening to Damon, he, he can't keep blood down. If that symptom continues… he'll…" Stefan's voice died in his throat as he stared helplessly at his incapacitated older brother.

"Desiccate," Bonnie finished strongly before he heard her curse on the other end. "Oh God, it does sound like a curse a witch might use. Look, I might not be able to perform any spells, but I still have the Bennett grimoires, not to mention others. There might be mentions of a spell like that in there." Bonnie's voice lowered. "But Stefan, it's a small chance. Every witches' magic is different, if Damon's managed to piss off a witch we don't know about, chances are the grimoires I have won't cover it."

"I understand," Stefan said thickly. "But it's a start." He drew in a quick breath before adding, "Bonnie I can't leave Damon like this, not the way he is, not on his own."

"I get it," Bonnie said. Her voice was oddly soothing and Stefan was immeasurably grateful for her cool headedness. "I can bring the grimoires over."

Stefan let out a sigh of relief. "Thank you, Bonnie. There's just one more thing."

"What's that?"

"Don't tell Elena." Stefan didn't miss the way Damon's head jerked up at the sound of her name.

"But Stefan-" Bonnie began.

"I know, I know, Elena would want to know," Stefan said quickly. "She'd want to help, but right now its best we keep this between us, I don't want to stress Elena out, not now, not after all she's had to deal with in the last few months." It wasn't like Stefan was lying. In the last month alone, Elena had been possessed by her evil doppelganger, infected (and cured) by a vampire eating virus that had slowly driven her insane and finally, she had broken up with Damon… or at least agreed to keep her distance. Stefan wasn't overly sure on the details, all he knew was that Elena still loved Damon and Damon… well; Damon had admitted that he couldn't live without her. Stefan shook his head in an attempt to shake out the thoughts. "If this crisis can be averted before she finds out, then even better."

Bonnie was silent on the other end for a few, very drawn out minutes. When she finally spoke again, her voice was slow and filled with uncertainty. "Alright, we'll keep it between us, _for now, _but if I can't find anything… you're going to have to tell Elena." Bonnie sighed exasperatedly. "She loves him, Stefan, no matter how dysfunctional that is."

Despite everything, Stefan found himself fighting off a small smile. "Alright, I will," he conceded. "Until then, I'll see you later?"

"Of course, I'll be there as soon as I can."

Once Stefan and Bonnie had mutually hung up on both ends, Stefan lowered his gaze towards his semi-conscious older brother. He sucked in a breath. "How much did you hear?"

Stefan was surprised to hear a choked laugh come from his brother, slightly muffled by the pillow held against his face.

"Everything."


	3. Helping Hand

_A/N:_ Once again, I've got to thank you guys for the positive reviews. I realise one of my readers mentioned something about a line in my last chapter about Damon putting Stefan through a lot of pain and suffering and I do acknowledge the fact that Stefan has been a pretty crappy brother to Damon in the past as well, and that at times Damon has been the stronger and better of the two. These things will be regarded in later chapters, I assure you. Anyway, I hope you enjoy this chapter and, once more, thank you so much for reading!

* * *

><p><strong>Cursed Disease<strong>

_Chapter 3_

_"Helping Hand"_

Damon lay passively on his bed as he allowed Stefan to wipe the sweat from his face with a cool cloth. It was humiliating, but he couldn't do anything about it. Right now, his body wasn't cooperating. It had taken all of Damon's strength just to roll himself onto his back and _try _to get comfortable.

Stefan had been coming and going from Damon's bedroom as he pleased. He'd emptied the bucket of his vomit, cleaned it and even returned it to his bedside in case he needed to get sick again. Damon saw that as a minute possibility, but a possibility all the same. He felt empty, but that didn't ease the sick pit in his stomach. His body continued to burn, as did his veins, but ever since Stefan had gotten off the phone, Damon had been dealing marginally better with his hunger. For one thing, he no longer felt the desire to rip Stefan's head off. _Progress. _

It had been the mention of Elena that had done it, he knew that now. Despite the fact that she wouldn't be coming, because she didn't _know, _thinking about her made Damon feel better. He knew that feeling this way didn't help their current relationship status which, honestly, he couldn't even figure out. Every time he and Elena were in a room together, all he wanted was her and he knew she felt the same way. He wanted to be close to her, to hold her, to do _anything _that would make her happy. Distantly, Damon wondered if that was what it felt like to be sired. He'd never seen it that way before, but he absently added it to the growing list of reasons why their relationship was toxic.

Stefan wiped the damp cloth across Damon's face again and he closed his eyes. The cool water did help with the fever, at least.

"You're quiet," Stefan observed.

Damon felt a bitter smile tug at his lips. He kept his eyes closed when he replied, "I'm thinking."

"Of?" Stefan prompted, and Damon knew he was only curious because it kept him from panicking.

"Elena," Damon answered honestly.

"She can't know about this, Damon. You agreed yourself," Stefan said with a hint of warning in his voice. Damon noticed that Stefan had retracted the cloth and opened his eyes to the barest slits.

"I know that," Damon answered indignantly. "Thinking about her helps with the cravings." Damon tried his best at a nonchalant shrug, wincing for his efforts. "It keeps me from, y'know, wanting to brutally murder you. That kind of stuff." He flashed one of his signature, serpentine grins. It seemed to do the trick, because some of the tension in Stefan's shoulders lifted.

"How are you feeling?" Stefan asked quietly after a few moments. He'd placed a cold flannel over Damon's head to keep from going back and forth with the cloth, which Damon appreciated greatly.

"Like shit." Damon didn't bother sugar coating the obvious, there was no point lying to his little brother, anyway. Stefan usually saw through that kind of thing.

Still the younger Salvatore did look marginally disappointed. Damon supposed Stefan hoped that his help had been worthwhile. He grimaced at the thought. "You _are_ helping," he said roughly, "but you know there's nothing you can do."

Stefan looked away and for a second, Damon thought he could see tears glistening in his eyes. Stefan had always been the sensitive one, but Damon still hated himself for making his brother feel that way. It was strange how in just a few years so much could change for the both of them in regards to their relationship. There had been a time when Stefan wouldn't have cared if Damon dropped dead and vice versa. Now the brothers were desperately thinking of ways to keep each other from breaking apart.

"Bonnie will be here soon," Stefan said firmly. "I said I'd help her go through the grimoires."

Damon's eyes glinted dully. "Is that so?"

Stefan shot his brother a look. "We might find something."

Damon smiled mildly. "Bonnie didn't sound too convinced about that."

"Which is another thing," Stefan added quickly, giving Damon a scrutinising look that made him feel moderately uncomfortable. "You shouldn't have been able to hear that conversation at all." Stefan bit his lip with obvious discomfort. Damon tried his best not to look like he cared. "You acted like my phone going off was the end of the world," Stefan continued, sounding progressively worried.

Damon thought back to the moment Stefan was talking about. The headache he had endured after hearing Stefan's phone ring had been almost identical to the pain he received every time a witch decided to give him multiple aneurisms just for kicks. Like tiny needles had been drilled into his skull simultaneously. He was barely able to contain a shudder from the memory. "A lot of things are louder now," Damon said in means of explanation. He tried to sound unaffected, but he knew it wasn't working by the look his little brother gave him.

"Are any of your other senses heightened?" Stefan asked.

Damon frowned at his brother before casting a very exhausted look at the curtains. The headache he had received from his own artificial lights had been enough to throw his nausea over the edge. God only knew what the sun was capable of doing to him. Not that he'd find out with his ring's magic being distorted.

Stefan understood the look without needing to follow his gaze. "I'll tell Bonnie when she gets here, she might have heard of something."

Damon only closed his eyes. This conversation was boring and the more he focused on it, the blurrier his thoughts became. If he let the fever get the better of him, then he'd also be letting in the hunger, which was something he desperately didn't want to do. "Why don't you wait for her downstairs," Damon said, knowing fully well that Stefan would hear the hidden meaning in his tone. He needed to focus his thoughts; otherwise the searing hunger would return and, honestly, he didn't know if he would be able to deal with it a second time, not without ripping someone's head off in the process.

Stefan nodded his understanding. He replaced Damon's cloth with a fresh one before leaving the room. When Damon was left alone, he finally let his thoughts trace back to Elena.

* * *

><p>Bonnie Bennett was stressed.<p>

Being the only tether to the Other Side? That was no problem. The pain of having dead supernatural beings passing through her every few hours was a small price to pay to make sure the world didn't come crashing down around her. Besides, being alive and well, going to college with her two best friends and having a surprisingly stable love life were all great advantages too.

But this? This was something new, something that scared her deeply, and something she had been explicitly warned not to share with another living soul.

Bonnie threw an assortment of clothes absent-mindedly into a small overnight bag as she considered what she had just agreed to.

There had been a time when Bonnie would have rather dropped dead than help the likes of Damon Salvatore. The same went for Stefan. Now, here she was, ferociously searching out the few grimoires she had taken with her to Whitmore and packing them into her progressively overflowing bag.

She still didn't care for Damon; especially after the Hell he had put her through, what with kidnapping Jeremy and almost letting him die at the hands of Enzo, his unstable cell mate from the 1950's. Weirdly enough, Bonnie had expected that behaviour and, though it didn't ease the anger that seared inside of her for all things Damon, she could – on some level – see where he had been coming from. Damon chose his battles and there was a part of him – however small – that truly cared for people. People like Elena. But that wasn't enough for Bonnie to honestly and eagerly search out some kind of help for the bastard. No, if Damon was hurt or sick or… _dying, _and she didn't do anything to help prevent it, she knew Elena would never forgive her. It didn't matter that at the moment, the two were trying to stay separated. Bonnie could see the hurt in Elena's eyes, the emptiness whenever Damon wasn't around. When Damon was with Elena, there was a spark that ignited within her, a dancing flame that Bonnie had rarely seen since her parents had died. She could hate Damon all she wanted, but there was something about him, however unhealthy it seemed, that made Elena _better. _

So, that's what Bonnie told herself repeatedly as she packed away the last grimoire that she had taken to Whitmore. It was more of a security blanket than anything, a reminder of who she had once been, of what she had been capable of. There had been a time when Bonnie could have focused on her grimoires and picked out the exact spell she was looking for. Now, she had no help from the supernatural, unless you counted asking a dead witch on the Other Side that might have been willing to help. Unfortunately, most of them seemed to hold a grudge on vampires, especially the ones killed at the hands of the very vampire Bonnie was seeking to assist.

She had been so absorbed in her own bubble of thoughts that she scarcely heard the door to her dorm open or the bubbly blonde that practically bounced inside.

"Hey don't mind me I just-" Caroline paused in the entryway as her bright eyes caught sight of the overnight bag lying on Bonnie's bed.

Bonnie froze where she stood, a hairbrush gripped tightly in her right hand. "I thought you were with Elena," Bonnie said lamely.

Caroline looked from Bonnie to the bag and then to Bonnie again. "I am," she said slowly. "I just forgot my purse…" Bonnie quickly shoved the hairbrush into her bag, trying to act as nonchalant as possible. It didn't deter Caroline from the sudden abundance of questions that popped to the forefront of her mind. "What's with the bag?"

Bonnie's eyes widened as she stared down at the contents of her bag. What _was _with the bag? She'd packed as though she were heading out for a war, not for an overnight stay at the Salvatore Boarding House. She swallowed thickly. "Oh yeah, right, I," she swept a casual hand through her short hair, "I thought I might stay in Mystic Falls for a few nights."

Caroline's eyes sharpened with interest. "Is that code for more scandalous sex with Jeremy?"

Bonnie's mouth dropped open in surprise. "C_aroline!_"

Caroline lifted her arms in a very unapologetic manner. "Oh please, we all know you do it." Caroline shrugged half-heartedly, a cat-like grin on her face. "Except for Elena, of course, who _pretends _she doesn't know."

Bonnie felt a blush creep along her cheeks. It was true that the two of them had stayed overnight at hotels before and… well, it wasn't important. What _was _important was reinforcing the idea that nothing was wrong and that what Bonnie was doing was something completely and totally ordinary. With a deep breath, Bonnie glanced down at her bag. "Okay fine, I'm seeing Jeremy."

She knew she'd said something wrong the moment Caroline didn't squeal in her usual manner, or make giddy remarks about how Bonnie was taking Jeremy's 'innocence.' Instead, Caroline stayed where she stood, an expert frown on her otherwise perfectly made up face. She pointed a finger at Bonnie accusingly. "You just lied to me."

Bonnie felt her heart clench. "How did you-" The unnatural pounding of her heart suddenly reminded her of Caroline's superhuman hearing. "Oh, _Caroline!_" Bonnie gasped, feeling somewhat violated.

"Hey!" Caroline said defensively. "It's not like I can control this!" She twirled her hand helplessly next to her ear before pouting. "Stefan says it's supposed to get easier the older you get…"

Bonnie gave her a sympathetic look before Caroline shook her head determinately. "Anyway, this isn't about me. You just lied to me Bonnie Bennett!" Bonnie gasped in surprise as Caroline appeared in front of her, using a very dramatic display of her vampiric speed. "Where are you going?" Caroline demanded.

Bonnie felt her mouth fall open, but no words came forth. She knew if she told another lie, Caroline would be able to tell, her heart was beating fast enough as it was. But if she told her the _truth… _then what would happen?

"I-" Bonnie began, but that was all she managed before Caroline caught sight of the one item oh so carefully placed inside her overnight bag.

"Hang on; is that one of your grimoires?" Caroline asked as she turned to root around inside Bonnie's bag. For a vampire so dependent on personal space, Caroline found it very difficult to maintain anyone else's. Caroline had very nearly yanked it out of the bag before Bonnie's hand came down to stop her.

"So what if it is?" Bonnie said sharply, very deliberately pulling the grimoire from Caroline's grip. She decided to busy herself with putting it back into her bag than to give Caroline the good graces of looking up at her.

"I just thought you left those at home," Caroline said, sounding faintly wounded. Bonnie bit her lip carefully.

"I did," she explained quietly. "Well, most of them anyway."

"Well why are you packing it?" Caroline asked once again, this time sounding impatient. "Bonnie, where are you going?"

Bonnie closed her eyes. She knew Caroline wouldn't stop pestering her and, the less she knew the more likely she'd go blabbering to Elena about how stoic she was being. Bonnie hated keeping things from her friends, especially after all that she'd done for Shane and then Silas… _especially_ after hiding her own demise from them. Bonnie took a shaky breath. "If I tell you, you've got to promise not to tell anyone, not even Elena, _especially _not Elena."

Caroline stared at Bonnie in bemusement. "You're kinda scaring me Bonnie…"

Bonnie turned sharply towards Caroline. "Do you promise?"

Caroline looked hurt, but she nodded all the same, her blonde curls bouncing across her shoulders. "I promise."

"It's Damon," Bonnie blurted before she really had time to overthink things. The moment she'd said the words, a look of unmasked horror flashed across Caroline's features. Her eyes widened exponentially.

"What's he done?" Caroline demanded, the horror on her face quickly transforming into fury. "Oh _God_, what's he done? Has he killed someone?" Bonnie immediately realised what Caroline was thinking. The last time Damon and Elena had separated (despite it not _actually _being Elena) he'd gone on a killing spree that had involved murdering Aaron Whitmore in cold blood, as well as a smattering of others.

Bonnie was quick to diffuse the situation. "No, it's not that he's…" She drew in a deep breath, wishing right now that she could draw reassurance from the elements. Sadly, they did not respond to her silent plea. Instead, Bonnie's shoulders sagged in defeat. "Stefan texted this morning, that's why I didn't come with you and Elena… I had to call him back. Something happened to Damon, apparently he's showing signs of sickness and Stefan thinks it might be a curse." Bonnie shrugged half-heartedly, trying for a bitter smile. "I said I'd bring my grimoires from home and help him try to find a cure."

Caroline stared at Bonnie very deliberately. Her body language was taut, her eyes glimmering with an emotion Bonnie couldn't quite place. Maybe shock? Yeah, probably shock.

"But…" Caroline murmured before digging her fingers through her hair in distress. "Oh my _God. _What about Elena?" Her eyes snapped to Bonnie. "I mean I don't even _like _them as a couple but this will break her!"

Bonnie held her hands up defensively. "We can't tell her, not after what she's been through, not now at least." Bonnie didn't agree with her own words, but she tried to recite Stefan's speech with as much commitment that she could muster. "If we can fix this problem before anything bad happens, then even better."

Caroline didn't look convinced, but she nodded mutely all the same. "At least let me come with you."

Bonnie's eyes widened in surprise. "What? No! If we both go, Elena will know something's wrong!"

Caroline opened her mouth to argue, but Bonnie only continued, "No, if you know, then you've got to keep her occupied. Make sure she thinks that whatever I'm doing is nothing to worry about. Take her for coffee, _anything _just don't let her think about Damon."

Caroline let out a huff of laughter. "Easier said than done. Do you know how often I see her flicking through her contacts list?" Caroline rolled her eyes dramatically. "I'm just saying, it's not good for her to linger on the past."

"Caroline," Bonnie said exhaustedly. "Will you do it?"

Caroline broadened her shoulders, giving a mock salute as she did so. "Of course."

Bonnie smiled thankfully and Caroline's expression simpered. Caroline opened her arms and Bonnie gratefully fell into them as the two friends hugged it out, that was until Caroline very abruptly gasped and pushed Bonnie away from her, holding her by the shoulders an arm's length away.

"Wait, _sorry, _but, what about Jeremy, is he your cover story?"

Bonnie frowned at Caroline, whose eyes were wide with alarm. "Yes…"

"Well then, are you going to tell him?" Caroline demanded.

Bonnie's mouth fell open. She hadn't thought about that. If Jeremy was her cover story then, what would happen if Jeremy turned up at Whitmore looking for Bonnie? What would happen if Jeremy called Elena or vice versa and he let something slip, like the fact Bonnie wasn't _actually _with him?

"Oh…" Bonnie said slowly.

"Yeah," Caroline muttered, hands on her hips. "_Oh._"

Bonnie shook her head tiredly. She hated keeping secrets from her friends, especially life and death situations. If Stefan had just told Elena himself… but no, Bonnie didn't want to stress Elena out. And more so, Bonnie didn't want Elena to get _hurt. _Stefan hadn't gone into specifics about Damon's condition, but if Elena tried to go near him and he wasn't in his right state of mind… vampire or not, Damon was stronger than her. Bonnie tried to supress a shudder as she looked Caroline in the eyes. "I'll deal with it," she said simply.

Caroline didn't look convinced, and Bonnie couldn't help but agree. What _was _she going to tell Jeremy? The truth? Was she really going to go about telling everyone except for Elena after what Stefan had explicitly told her? Oh God, she really hated this.

* * *

><p>That was how Bonnie found herself driving towards the Salvatore Boarding House, a trunk in her back seat and a myriad of questions running through her head. All she hoped was that what she had done would be enough to stave off Elena's natural curiosity.<p>

Even as she pulled up towards the driveway, the conversation she'd had with Jeremy continued to replay inside her head.

"_So wait… you want me to tell Elena that you're with me?"_

_Bonnie shook her head ferociously as she drew her boyfriend towards her. "No, no. Only if she asks."_

_Jeremy looked at her oddly before that adorable lopsided grin broke out across his face. Bonnie's heart ached when she saw it. There was a part of her that desperately wished she really was spending the day with him instead of being cooped up in the same house as a bloodthirsty, unstable vampire._

"_Okay… so if you're not with me, then where are you really?" Jeremy asked playfully, but Bonnie could sense his curiosity. Just like his sister, she thought dejectedly._

"_It's a sort of secret." Bonnie shrugged, trying to act nonchalant. "Elena just can't know."_

"_Is it serious?"_

_Bonnie reached her arms out around Jeremy's neck and pulled him down to her height. She lightly pecked him on lips, looking him directly into those beautiful brown eyes. She just wanted to melt right there. "Nothing you need to worry about," she said. Fortunately, despite Jeremy being a Hunter, he didn't have vampire super-hearing, so he had no idea that Bonnie's heart was racing, even as she lied straight to her boyfriend's face._

"_Okay, I'll keep your secret," Jeremy conceded. His face darkened afterwards. "But if you get into any kind of trouble, you call me okay?"_

_Bonnie felt her heart clench in her chest. Oh, if only he knew how much trouble she might be putting herself in. Instead of voicing her fears, she simply nodded, bringing Jeremy in for one final goodbye kiss…_

Lost in her memories, Bonnie hadn't realised she'd been sat stationary outside the Salvatore House for almost five minutes. Quickly, she got out of the car and went about collecting the baggage from the back seat. She'd brought every grimoire she could find, from the Bennett collection all the way to the ones she had taken from Jonas and Luka after their unfortunate demise. Still, Bonnie didn't hold up much hope. She'd never heard of a spell or curse that could cause a vampire to get sick before, it would take an insane amount of power to create something as potent as that and, as Bonnie proceeded to the house, her arms weighed down by grimoires, she began to wonder how powerful someone must be to remove it.

The door opened before Bonnie even had the time to knock and suddenly, Stefan was there, helping her carry the grimoires into the parlour as though they were no weight at all. Bonnie didn't even need to ask anything, because before she could open her mouth, Stefan had sped out into the driveway to collect the last of the grimoires and Bonnie's overnight things. She had debated whether she'd feel more comfortable staying at a hotel or even at her own derelict house; but in the end she'd decided one night at the Salvatore _mansion_ wouldn't kill her. Damon, on the other hand…

Bonnie was knocked out of her thoughts as Stefan made his appearance in the hallway. Now that he was standing still and Bonnie could get a proper look at him she realised just how _wrecked _he looked. His clothes and hair were rumpled and his eyes seemed darker, whether that was with hunger or exhaustion, Bonnie couldn't tell, but it wasn't good either way. She thought back to the text she had received at three in the morning. If that was when everything had kick-started, then Stefan must have been alert and caring for Damon ever since. Bonnie couldn't help the warmth she felt for Stefan in that moment. Despite her negative judgements towards the Salvatore brothers, Stefan had never done anything outright to hurt her, not even in his darkest days. He was bright and caring and, despite everything Damon had done to not only Stefan, but everyone he seemed to touch, he never gave up hope that his brother could be saved. Bonnie saw something admirable in that. She must have. Otherwise she wouldn't have been there.

"You look terrible," Bonnie said after a moment's silence. It was a better ice breaker than any, she supposed.

Stefan shrugged half-heartedly, and Bonnie felt a twinge of sympathy for the younger Salvatore. "Damon's been keeping me occupied."

"And is he?" Bonnie glanced towards the ceiling, asking in not so many words whether Damon was upstairs and, more importantly, unrestrained.

Stefan seemed to understand her concern, for a small, exhausted smile cracked across his lips. "He's dealing the best he can. He's weak, he can't hurt you." Bonnie noticed Stefan didn't say _won't. _She supposed she knew why. Damon had a very short list of people he wouldn't hurt and, honestly, even that list changed depending on how he felt. There had been a few times in the short years Bonnie had known Damon where the two had gotten along. Grudgingly all the same, it was a relationship of sorts. She wouldn't go as far as calling them _friends, _but they did hold a mutual agreement not to kill the other should the occasion arise. Bonnie could respect him for that and, in a weird way, she felt like he respected her too.

Shaking the thought from her mind, she decided to turn her attention to the grimoires. "I don't know how helpful they'll be," Bonnie said dismissively, "but I think we'll have more luck with the Bennett grimoires, there seems to be a richer history."

Stefan nodded his understanding. "We better get started, then."


	4. Vervain

_A/N: _Hi guys. I want to thank you all for your reviews – especially those of you who voiced their concerns about certain aspects of my last chapter. I understand that some of you are worried about the way I wrote Damon in a negative light in both Bonnie and Stefan's POV and I just wanted to take some time to explain a few things. (If you don't care and just want to get right to the chapter feel free to skip this, it won't affect your understanding of the chapter)

First of all, I understand that Bonnie has seen Stefan do a lot of bad things in the past, especially when he regressed back to his Ripper phase. Despite that, he never _did _hurt her specifically, though she did witness him do some terrible things where she personally had to intervene. Despite this, I hope you understand I had to give Bonnie a reason to willingly want to work with Stefan. Bonnie actually liked Stefan before she knew he was a vampire - that wasn't the case for Damon - though there have been times where she's hated the brothers equally. Stefan and Damon are the reason that her two best friends are vampires, a race that Bonnie still dislikes, after all. Bonnie has seen a better side of Stefan than she has of Damon and that gives her more of a reason to trust Stefan. But that's all. She can admire him for sticking close to Damon and I'd say she sees him as a friend, but she isn't _close_ to him either.

As for Damon, I completely understand where you're coming from. Damon has done numerous things to help not only Bonnie but everyone in the group. He has proven that he cares for other people, but is that enough to actually give Bonnie a reason to care about him? No. Sadly, it doesn't. The way I understand Bonnie's character is that she's incredibly stubborn and she does _not _forgive people easily. Let's not forget that this story is set not that long after Damon left Enzo with Jeremy and threatened to kill him. Bonnie can't forget all the bad Damon has done, it's not in her nature to forgive and forget like Caroline and Elena can. She respects Damon for trying to be better and – on some level – she probably sees that he actually cares about her, but she won't allow herself to acknowledge that because it's not in her nature to forgive him.

That being _said, _this chapter does delve deeper into Bonnie's relationship with Damon in regards to how she sees him so I hope you'll like that.

Once again THANK YOU for all your reviews and support. I apologize for the length of the Author's Notes, but I think it's important to help my readers when I can and clear up any questions or concerns that they might have. With that all said and done, I hope you enjoy this chapter.

* * *

><p><strong>Cursed Disease<strong>

_Chapter 4_

_"Vervain"_

Damon could hear the flutter of pages from downstairs. Bonnie and Stefan had remained silent except for the odd exchange of words here and there, for example, if they came across a spell that seemed promising, which Damon appreciated greatly.

Despite that, Damon couldn't sleep. It was killing him, but he just couldn't relax. His body continued to burn, his veins pulsed under his skin; the hunger was tearing him apart. It didn't help that - even from here - he could hear the hard, rhythmic pulse of Bonnie's heart as she continued to read from the grimoires. Damon had promised that he would be okay with a human in the house; it wasn't like he could move anyway. The simplest turn of his head sent aches and pains shock waving through his body; if he tried to stand, he knew he wouldn't be getting very far.

Even still, Stefan had promised that if Damon couldn't handle it, Bonnie would leave. Stefan would continue the research on his own, or Bonnie could take a portion of the grimoires with her. Stefan had made a point to stress that it wouldn't be a big deal and Damon hated it. He hated that his little brother had to step around him like broken glass, like the simplest motion might set him off. What Damon hated even more, however, was knowing that Stefan was right to do so.

He knew he was losing this battle. Whether or not this curse would kill him didn't matter, without a healthy dose of blood in his system, his heart would stop and his body would desiccate. He didn't care what happened after that, because dissection was a horrific experience. Damon had heard rumours that vampires who were revived after mummifying were never the same. He'd heard horror stories of vampires going mad with pain; losing themselves after being forced to withstand the agony of their veins shrivelling up, rubbing together like sandpaper, while their mind was still conscious.

Damon couldn't stop the inkling of fear that pulsed inside his chest, reminding him that it was just a matter of time. How long _could _he go before he started to desiccate, he wondered. For a vampire who had started the process with a healthy diet, it could take weeks, but for him? Damon shuddered at the thought. His body was going to shut itself down and no matter how hard he tried, thinking of Elena just didn't cut it anymore. The pain pulsed through his every fibre and with a grunt of anguish Damon rolled his body to the side, forcing his face against his pillow. He wanted to scream, to yell out to no one in particular, to voice the agony that riddled his body. Instead, his chest spasmed and he was thrown into another vicious coughing fit. His lungs burned by the time he was finally done and the small space he could see from his pillow swam and flashed before his eyes.

* * *

><p>Stefan was beginning to grow worried. After a sizeable amount of time searching through the grimoires, they were no closer to finding any mention of a curse or, for that matter, a cure.<p>

Damon's state was regressing faster than before, which Stefan hadn't even thought possible. He was only half paying attention to the words on the page as he listened to Damon's faint, ragged breathing as it hitched and fell from upstairs. Damon hadn't slept properly since he'd gotten sick that morning and it was showing. Stefan knew that all Damon wanted was the relief that would come with unconsciousness, but for whatever reason, his body wouldn't allow it. Stefan didn't know if it was some cruel addition to the curse or just his body's hunger stopping Damon from getting any rest. Either way, it wasn't healthy.

Finally, after almost four hours of searching, Stefan heard Damon cough exceptionally harshly from upstairs. Without thinking, Stefan stood up from where he was sat on the sofa; the grimoire he had been reading slumped to the ground. Bonnie looked up to him quizzically. When she saw the look on his face, her expression softened. "What's wrong?"

"Damon," Stefan said quietly as he ran his hands through his hair. He'd had half of his attention so plainly fixed on Damon that he scarcely heard Bonnie's question. "He's coughing again… he needs water, he can hold that down." Stefan wasn't entirely sure whether he was talking to Bonnie or himself, but the young ex witch gave a curt nod of encouragement.

"I'll keep searching, go take care of him," she said soothingly. Stefan closed his eyes and nodded his thanks before blurring out of the room and towards the kitchen.

When Stefan walked into Damon's room, he wasn't surprised to find him lying half entangled in his sheets, face pressed firmly into his pillow. His body was still shaking with the after effects of his latest coughing fit, which set Stefan on edge immediately.

Wasting no time, Stefan moved to Damon's bedside and placed a hand gently on his shoulder. Damon let out a groan of pain, his eyes scrunching closed as his body crumpled in on itself. Stefan hated seeing his brother this way, he hated that he couldn't do anything about it. The grimoires had turned up no useful information as of yet and Stefan was beginning to wonder if they ever would. He tried to shake the negative thoughts out of his head, but it was hard, especially seeing Damon so obviously in need of help lying before him.

Very slowly, Damon began to open his eyes. Stefan could see that they were blood shot and shadowed; he was over exhausted but even still, he couldn't sleep. Carefully, Stefan managed to coax Damon into taking a few drawn out sips of water from the glass. He'd tried to make it as cool as possible, hoping it would aid with his brother's throat, but right now that was the least of his problems.

The pain of hunger was coming on stronger now, Stefan could sense it. Damon's entire body was taut with barely restrained agony, not to mention his other symptoms hadn't let up. Just where Stefan had touched Damon's shoulder, he could feel the heat radiating from him like a steadily progressing furnace. He needed to bring the fever down again, but he didn't know how Damon would react to being touched, not now.

"Stefan," Damon's voice was barely audible behind the pillow he'd pushed his face into.

Stefan bit his lip, crouching down to reach his brother's line of sight. "I'm here, Damon."

"'Tss-hurtss Stefan," Damon moaned feebly and Stefan felt the breath catch in his throat. He swallowed, trying his best not to lose it, not in front of Damon, not when he needed him the most.

"I know, brother, lie still," Stefan soothed, pressing his hand reassuringly against Damon's shoulder.

Damon's eyes fluttered, his eyebrows furrowed in confusion. "I wanna sleep, s-so tired," he breathed.

Before Stefan could say anything, Damon suddenly shot to life. The arm closest to Stefan reached out for him, grabbing at the hem of his shirt. Damon's eyes were bright and fever dazed and Stefan wasn't entirely sure if he was coherent, but they were wide and filled with such pain, such vulnerability. Stefan didn't have the heart to remove his hand.

"V-vervain," Damon gasped.

Stefan felt his brows furrow. "What?"

"Vervain," Damon repeated, only this time his voice was choked off by a round of hacking coughs. Stefan couldn't ignore the fact that they were a lot stronger than before, or that they came in quicker succession.

Stefan pressed the glass of water to Damon's lips again, but the older Salvatore only batted it away. His eyes were bright with anguish. "I-inject me," Damon begged. "It'll knock me out."

Stefan couldn't believe what he was hearing. "Damon…" he said warily, "I can't do that, it'll hurt you."

Damon laughed weakly, though it quickly turned to a groan of pain. "C-can't do anything worse," he admitted lowly.

Stefan felt his heart clench in his chest. Was this really an option? Was Damon so desperate for sleep that he was willing to be _vervained? _He was cursed; there was no way of telling what it was doing to Damon's body, what parts of him it would affect. Damon had no blood in his system, he was as weak as a vampire could get, there was no telling how badly vervain could affect him in the aftermath.

"Damon," Stefan said weakly.

"_Please,_" Damon said and he really sounded as though he meant it. Damon never begged, he never asked of anything and yet here he was unashamedly pleading to be injected with a dose of vervain just so he could _sleep. _He was in agony, all he wanted was to get a few hours without it. And, who knew? Maybe by then Stefan and Bonnie might have found a way to reverse the curse. All Stefan had left was hope.

"Okay," Stefan said finally, his voice choked and low. "Okay."

* * *

><p>Bonnie was checking her phone when she heard movement from upstairs.<p>

Caroline had been texting all through the day, asking if they had any new information, checking if Bonnie was alright and, of course, keeping her up-to-date with all things Elena. As of yet, Elena hadn't been demanding answers from Caroline, which Bonnie saw as a plus, however, with the amount of texts Bonnie was receiving she was beginning to wonder how much of Caroline's attention was really focused on the plan at hand.

Before she could reply to the latest text, she heard the faint _whoosh _of someone coming down the stairs at vampiric speeds. Bonnie noticed that Stefan was doing that a lot lately, though she supposed she couldn't blame him. Whenever he wasn't by Damon's side he was rushing to get back, even when he was reading from the grimoires. Bonnie had never had a sibling before, but Elena and Caroline were as good as family and she knew that no matter what they did to her, she'd always have their back. She supposed the same went for Stefan and Damon. They were family and, whether they liked it or not, they were bonded for eternity. They relied on each other.

Before she could think better of it, Bonnie's curiosity got the best of her. Placing the grimoire she had been reading on the coffee table, Bonnie stood up from the sofa and made a move towards the hallway.

When Bonnie reached the archway linking the parlour to the hall, she caught a glimpse of Stefan exiting from the basement. In his hands he was clutching a needle filled with a very familiar substance. Bonnie felt herself tense. _Liquid vervain_.

There was only one reason Stefan would need vervain and that was for Damon. But _why _was he going to use it on Damon? Bonnie's immediate thoughts went to the worse-case scenario. Damon had lost himself and in doing so had become too violent to handle without being subdued. Bonnie felt her heart pound harder in her chest. Unfortunately, that was all it took for Stefan to notice her presence standing frozen in the hallway.

"Is he-?" Bonnie wasn't entirely sure how to phrase the question. What was she supposed to ask, whether Damon was _okay? _She knew he wasn't and the vervain in Stefan's hand only further proved her point. What she meant to ask was whether he was dangerous or whether it was safe for her to continue being in the house. She and Stefan had discussed that over the phone before she'd gotten there and she was more than willing to leave if her presence became too much for Damon to bear. Still, Stefan hadn't mentioned anything. Instead, he clung to the small syringe as though it was his only lifeline and gave Bonnie a tired, oddly sympathetic look.

"He's tired," Stefan finally replied, his own voice low and subdued. Bonnie wasn't entirely sure what to make of that answer so she simply remained silent.

Stefan rolled his shoulders, his gaze slowly tracing towards the stairway. "He hasn't slept since last night and he's in pain, he asked-" Stefan paused as his voice broke and Bonnie felt her heart shatter along with it. She'd never seen this side of Stefan, though she knew it existed from what Elena had told her. Still, it was odd seeing Stefan so totally hopeless, so out of ideas. In a weird way, Bonnie realised that Damon was the one that spurred Stefan onwards. They made the plans together, they consulted with one another. What was Stefan supposed to do when he was alone in this?

"He asked to be vervained," Stefan managed to say after a sizeable pause. Bonnie wanted to step forward, to comfort him, to show that she cared, but she felt oddly detached. Yes, she could admit that she and Stefan were almost friends now, but how close were they? Could she comfort him as easily as she would Caroline or Elena? The answer was no, of course. Instead, Bonnie stayed rooted to the spot, her hands clenching uselessly at her sides.

"Go to him," she whispered.

Stefan looked to her in confusion, a silent question playing in his eyes. Bonnie sighed. "You said it yourself; he's in pain, if the vervain can stop him from feeling that, even for a little while…" Bonnie drew off, she could feel her voice getting smaller and smaller. What was she even getting at? She hadn't seen Damon's state; she didn't know how bad it was. But she could imagine and from that she knew it was bad. Really bad. "We'll find something," Bonnie reaffirmed as she lifted her head to meet Stefan's gaze. "Until then, you might as well make sure he's comfortable."

Stefan gripped the vervain a little firmer in his hand as he nodded to Bonnie. She could see his body relax slightly, the tension in his shoulders lifted as he smiled an exhausted smile. "Thank you, Bonnie." His voice was stronger this time around and Bonnie couldn't help the small, relieved smile that crossed her lips in return.

"No problem."

Bonnie wasn't sure what possessed her to follow Stefan up the stairs, maybe it was the same thing that made her agree to do all this in the first place, but there she was, trailing across the hallway that led towards Damon's bedroom.

It seemed everyone had been in Damon's bedroom before except for her, unless of course you counted that one drunken night that she, Elena and Caroline had piled into his bathtub, which she honestly tried to forget. It was odd to think it, but Bonnie Bennett had tried to keep her distance from all things Salvatore for so long that she had almost forgotten that despite Damon and Stefan being vampires, they still had human requirements, like sleep or comfort. They weren't robots and their bodies would cease to function without those needs being sustained, just like any human.

Despite losing her witch status, there were still certain abilities that remained in Bonnie's favour. For example, her senses were still heightened to certain kinds of witchcraft. Which was why Bonnie wasn't surprised that when she entered Damon's room behind Stefan, she immediately felt an electric pulse in the air that left an acidic taste on her tongue. A feeling which she attributed to high amounts of magic being used. But this magic was _wrong. _It left a sick pit in her stomach even as she felt it pulsate from the only other person residing in the room.

She swallowed back the poisonous taste amounting on her tongue with a wince as she caught a glimpse of him from behind Stefan's broad shoulders.

_Damon. _

"What's _she _doing here?"

She almost laughed out loud. Despite everything, despite how weak he was or how sick he sounded he still had the audacity to seem bothered by her presence in his bedroom. And he _did _look sick. Damon was a mess. All the sarcastic superiority was gone, leaving a Damon in his place that Bonnie had never met before. He was slumped in his bed, body half entangled in his sheets. His clothes were rumpled and sweat soaked as was his dark hair that clung to his face in awkward clumps around his forehead. His skin was pale, almost translucent and despite the dark setting of his bedroom, Bonnie could see the bruising under his eyes where his exhaustion had gotten the better of him.

Bonnie had never cared about Damon before, she couldn't allow herself to. Caroline and Elena might have been able to forget the things Damon had done in his past, but Bonnie was stubborn. She knew that he tried to be better, for Elena, for Stefan and some part of him really did seem to care about others… but she just _couldn't _forgive him. She didn't think it was in her nature to do so. Now, that seemed to change. Right here, right now as Bonnie stood before the husk that was Damon Salvatore, she actually felt something. A pang in her chest. There was no way she _couldn't _feel bad for the elder Salvatore, not in his current state, not when she could sense the curse so plainly pulsing from his body but other than that, do nothing to stop it.

Damon had already forgotten her presence, for his gaze was now intently fixated upon Stefan. Or, it would have been, had he had the strength to lift his head. "Did you get it?"

Stefan lifted the syringe in his hand so Damon could see it. His expression was unreadable, but Bonnie supposed he was doing that for his brother's benefit. It was odd seeing Stefan play down his emotions like that, looking so utterly alienated in the face of his only family withering away before him. Still, she had no place to judge. This was a very private moment and, despite the fact that Bonnie wanted to be anywhere else but _there, _she couldn't bring herself to leave. It was genuinely frustrating.

Bonnie stood in the doorway, not able to go any further but not able to turn away, either. Instead, she watched on as Stefan knelt down by his brother's side and, with the gentleness and grace that only a vampire could enact, he moved Damon's head very carefully to the side, exposing his neck.

"I can't give you a strong dose," Stefan muttered. "But this should knock you out for at least a few hours."

Damon's eyes were glassy as he listened to his brother's words. When Stefan was finished talking, he gave a curt nod of understanding, though Bonnie didn't miss the wince of pain that came with the action. For a heavy moment, Bonnie realised that Damon was trying to down-play his own symptoms as well. Even when he was cursed, sick and in enough pain to cripple a normal human, he still had a strong hold on his emotions, at least when Bonnie was present to see him at his weakest point.

"Are you sure you want this?" Stefan asked, voice cracking.

Damon made a choking noise that Bonnie couldn't quite decipher. His bright blue eyes bored into Stefan's green ones. "Just inject me with the damn thing already," he grunted, but Bonnie could see the desperation that lay just beneath the surface. He was in a lot of pain, it didn't take her heightened witch senses to see that and, honestly, she couldn't help but feel for him. She supposed it was why she found it so hard to watch Stefan jam the needle into Damon's neck. Damon made a muffled sound of protest as the initial burning of the poison took hold before his body slumped forward against his pillow, his muscles relaxed, the fierce pain that had been tightening them finally loosening. Bonnie felt herself breathe a sigh of relief at the sight of a sleeping Damon. His breathing still hitched where his lungs denied him, but aside from that, he was relaxed and, more importantly, he was unconscious.

Before Bonnie could say anything, she felt a slight breeze as Stefan disappeared into the bathroom. She could hear the tap running and a moment later Stefan had returned with a damp flannel. She watched him from the doorway as he wiped Damon's face with the cloth and then, ever so gently, rolled his older brother onto his back. Damon made no complaint; the vervain in his system was doing its job. Still, Bonnie felt a pang of sympathy for Damon. The closest to this state she had ever seen him was the time she'd been held against her will by Klaus and, on her way out, discovered Damon strung up and bleeding out in the parlour. Rebekah had been fulfilling some sick fantasy after his latest indiscretion and Bonnie had done nothing to help him. Not that she'd have been able to if she'd tried, but still, seeing him like this, weak and unconscious, his expression soft and docile as he slept, Bonnie couldn't help but remember all the times she'd crushed Damon at moments he'd needed her the most. She hadn't taken the curse off the Gilbert Device like she'd promised, she had tried to burn him alive despite the fact he hadn't done anything to deserve it at the time, and it didn't end there. Even Emily, her distant ancestor, had broken Damon's resolve by refusing to help him after he had kept his side of the bargain for a hundred and fifty years. Sometimes Bonnie wondered what Damon had seen of her family line in those years, who he had protected and kept safe to make sure the Bennett line had flourished. All those broken promises and yet she still had the nerve to question why he hardly ever trusted anyone. Bonnie had to look away from Damon then, the guilt proved far too overwhelming.

"Are you alright?"

It took Bonnie a moment to realise that Stefan was talking to her. She blinked, realising with a start that she had been very nearly reduced to tears. Was this really all it took to break her? Seeing someone she didn't even want to consider a _friend _withering before her? Squaring her shoulders, Bonnie looked to Stefan with a brilliant glint in her eyes. "I'm fine."

Stefan nodded uncertainly before glancing back towards Damon. His expression was still as he slept and despite all that he had done, the vulnerability that came with his unconsciousness made him look very nearly innocent. Bonnie breathed outwards slowly, wrapping her arms loosely around her chest. She watched as Stefan continued to wipe Damon's forehead, soaking his skin in an attempt to lower the fever. Despite his best efforts, Bonnie knew it wouldn't work. It might soothe the burning for a while, but the stink of the curse clung to her nostrils, stinging like battery acid. The only thing that would save Damon now would be to find the method that undid the spell.

"We should continue looking," Bonnie said, hooking a stray lock of hair behind her ear.

Stefan placed the flannel against Damon's forehead before looking up. "You go ahead; I'll be down in a second."

Bonnie felt her heart squeeze. "If you don't want to leave him, I understand, we can bring the grimoires up here."

Stefan's mouth fell open in surprise. "You don't have to-"

"It's fine," Bonnie interrupted, shaking her head. "Like you said, he'll be asleep for a couple of hours and besides, he needs you." Bonnie tried for a genuine smile. "I'm sure Damon will find it hard to piss me off while he's unconscious, anyway."

Stefan glanced down and smiled. "Okay, if you're sure."

"I'm sure," Bonnie said and, with a jolt, she realised it was the truth. She couldn't forgive Damon, but she could respect him for the person that he was or, at the very least, the person he tried to be. Besides, she didn't care _who_ it was, no one deserved to suffer like this. With a curt nod, she turned to leave. "I'll get the grimoires."

* * *

><p>It only took two trips to bring all the grimoires up. Bonnie placed most of them across the floor; she'd sat herself down, cross-legged on the rug. She could have pulled up a chair, but that would have meant sitting closer to Damon and in his current state, Bonnie couldn't bring herself to do it. She'd managed to push the feeling of wrongness that the curse had caused to the back of her mind, but it still clung to her like a parasite, reminding her that dark magic was at play, that this curse was powerful and that, no matter what they found, alone, they might not stand a chance to defeat it.<p>

Bonnie had never asked Stefan what he planned on doing if they found out there was a counter-spell. Obviously, that would be when Bonnie's usefulness expired; despite her senses still being primed towards the supernatural, she had no magic. She couldn't perform spells and had no connections to anyone that could. She supposed she could call her mother, Abby, and ask if she was in contact with any witches still willing to help vampires, but then again, in the hundred and fifty years Stefan and Damon had been vampires, she assumed the boys had made connections of their own.

Cracking open one of the larger grimoires, Bonnie was about to continue her research when a heaviness inside the book caught her off guard.

Frowning, Bonnie began to flip through the age-stained pages. She was careful not to damage them as she made her way to the centre of the book where the spine definitely felt off-kilter. Bonnie could feel Stefan's eyes on her as she balanced the book across her lap, focusing on the pages as she flipped them closer to the centre. There was something hard and heavy beneath the pages and with a few more turns, Bonnie realised what the obstruction was.

Tied to the grimoire's centre in a pouch made of a highly questionable material was a small book about the size of Bonnie's palm. Bonnie stared at the pouch for a moment before she felt her fingers numbly move towards it. The material of the pouch was rough to the touch, though Bonnie didn't want to think of its origin. Instead, she plunged her hand into the pouch and grabbed for the book, careful not to jostle it as she lifted it into her hand.

Stefan was definitely staring at her now; she could feel him moving closer to her side as she looked at the small leather-bound book in her hand. It was old, there was no way of telling _how _old, but it seemed well preserved. The cover of the book looked like it had been replaced a few times with sturdier material, the latest being a thick black leather with a title inscribed in white swirls on the front.

Bonnie's brow raised as she read the title out loud.

"_The Trickster_."

"The who?"

Bonnie very nearly jumped as she felt Stefan's presence now directly in front of her. He bent down to get a better look at the cover, his own brow creased with a signature frown.

Bonnie cleared her throat. "I'm not sure, that's all it says, hang on." Mutely, she peeled back the leather cover to reveal the first page. On it was a simple note followed by a signature that read:

* * *

><p><em>To take a life is a Powerful thing<em>

_C.C_

* * *

><p>The words were written in a flowing, flawless scripture. Whoever had written it was obviously a gifted calligrapher. Still, there was something off about the writing too, or maybe, not so much the writing, but the ink it was written in.<p>

"Blood," Bonnie said, feeling slightly nauseated. "It's written in blood."

* * *

><p><em>AN: _Just as an added note, Bonnie being able to continue sensing magic is - as far as I'm aware - not canon and something I added in as an extra. As well as that, I just wanted to mention that as the story continues, I'll be using a few little facts that are either not canon or exclusively mentioned in the book series by L.J Smith. You do _not _need to have read the books to follow this story as any mentions of these facts will be explained within the story. Thank you.


	5. The Trickster

_A/N: _Holy crapsicles, I have had a _long _week so I'm sorry I didn't get this up any sooner. I hope the extra length of this chapter will make up for that. I have another long week ahead, so I'll apologise in advance if I don't get the next chapter up within the week, but until then I've got to thank you guys for all the support, it really means the world.

(Also, that latest episode, _oh my God, _the hug at the end almost broke me I swear)

* * *

><p><strong>Cursed Disease<strong>

_Chapter 5_

_"The Trickster"_

"But where did it come from?" Stefan asked as he weighed the book in his hand, studying the cover as though he thought it might snap back at him.

Bonnie had been ferociously searching through the grimoire she discovered the book in when she met Stefan's eyes. "It's one that I took from Jonas and Luka." Bonnie swallowed defensively. "I never really read them, not thoroughly, I didn't want to."

Stefan nodded, though Bonnie wasn't sure whether he understood. To pry through a dead witches' material was one thing, but to steal grimoires from two warlocks who had died _because _of them? Bonnie didn't think it right, especially after Damon had been the one to burn Luka alive with a flamethrower.

"What does it say?" Stefan said as he continued to study the leather-bound book.

Bonnie frowned down at the open grimoire. The pouch was sturdy enough to have held the book for a long time and, if the majority of it had been written in blood, she didn't want to hazard a guess on what the pouch had been made out of. Swallowing back the taste of bile, she looked up. "I haven't read it yet." She shuffled closer to where Stefan was knelt and held out her hand. "Give it here."

Wordlessly, Stefan handed over the book. With a deep breath, Bonnie cracked it open to the first page, once again met by the note scrawled in blood:

* * *

><p><em>To take a life is a Powerful thing<em>

* * *

><p>Though it looked like a statement, Bonnie couldn't help but read it as some form of warning. Suppressing a shiver, she flicked to the next page, then the next, then the next.<p>

"A lot of it's in Latin," Bonnie said after a while. She bit her lip thoughtfully. "But not all of it, some is in English, in a different hand writing, the same one as the note on the front."

As Bonnie read further into the text, her eyes widened in surprise.

"What?" Stefan asked.

"It's… there's a list," Bonnie said faintly. "Um, of poisons, poisonous plants and roots… here." Bonnie traced her hand over one she was very familiar with. A pencil drawing of a flower lay next to it with the blood written inscription _Vervain _directly below. Bonnie's gaze caught the words written in block capitals above the drawing. "_Lamia_," Bonnie read aloud before swallowing thickly. "Vampire."

She could feel Stefan reading from over her shoulder as she continued down the list. "There's more, plants I've never heard of, poisonous components…" Bonnie drew off with a sharp intake of breath. "This book… it lists different ways of harming vampires."

"I had no idea there were so many," Stefan said with a frown. "I knew there were plants in nature that could harm vampires, like vervain, but they're uncommon."

"Vampires are an abomination of nature," Bonnie explained lowly. "Witchcraft serves nature, when the Original witch created vampires, a lot of components in nature turned against her creation."

Stefan nodded at her side as he drew away thoughtfully. "Does it say anything about curses?" Bonnie could hear the hopefulness that lay in his voice. She felt so relieved to hear it that she very nearly skipped over a page.

"Hang on," she muttered as she continued to flip through the pages. There were all kinds of notes, some in the familiar scrawl of the mysterious _C.C _from the first page, others in Latin. Luckily, Bonnie knew enough Latin to understand what they were describing. She reached one double page spread that was almost entirely covered with a very detailed pencil drawing of a wolf. There were arrows pointing to the wolf's teeth and underneath, a brief explanation.

"There's a page dedicated to werewolf venom," Bonnie said, a wary curve forming on her lips. "It doesn't mention a cure."

"So the witch didn't know everything, then," Stefan said, though Bonnie could hear the smile in his voice.

As Bonnie drew further into the book, the pages became more detailed. There were fewer drawings and more words. Sometimes the writer would change mid-paragraph, from the Latin scripture of one writer to the delicate swirls of English that Bonnie now identified with _C.C. _She continued to read, swiftly changing from Latin to English, trying her best to keep up with the translations. There were spells mentioned, some she already knew about, like ways to force an immortal into a stone prison. Others were much darker. Bonnie had to glance away at times as the descriptions became more and more graphic. There were times she was relieved that Stefan couldn't read in Latin.

Finally, she found something familiar. It wasn't what she had expected, there wasn't even an entire page dedicated to it. Instead, on one of the last pages, Bonnie found her eyes tracing back to the familiar bloody curves and curls of the illusive _C.C. _A page entitled: _The Trickster's Curse_

* * *

><p><em>Beware those who madden the Trickster, f'r the foulest of curses shall be sent down upon thee. Thy corse will reject its essence. Thou shalt wither with sickness. If thou doth not fear the Trickster, thou hast made a mistake most grave.<em>

_-C.C_

* * *

><p>Bonnie had to read the paragraph three times before the weight of the situation seemed to dawn on her. She glanced up to Stefan who had withdrawn some moments ago and was now knelt at her side. He gave her a startled look before turning his gaze to Damon who still lay unconscious on the bed. Bonnie had been so immersed in her research that she had very nearly forgotten the sickly vampire that lay just a few feet from where she sat.<p>

"The Trickster," Bonnie said slowly. "That must have been the witch; no one else could curse Damon like this."

Stefan opened his mouth before closing it again. He seemed at a loss for words until, finally, he drew in a deep breath. "Does it mention a cure?"

Bonnie numbly turned the pages. There were just two left.

Both were blank.

Bonnie stared hopelessly at the book as she felt a crashing numbness overtake her body. They had been _so close. _So _damn _close, they'd found the curse, they'd found the name of the witch and yet there wasn't even a mention of a _cure. _What the Hell kind of book was this? What told you _everything you needed to know _but not a cure?

"No," Bonnie said, the words felt as though they were choking her. "There's nothing else."

Bonnie felt her shoulders lock automatically, as though sensing the sudden tension in the air. Stefan's eyes were glassy, his jaw set. Obviously, he was feeling the same way. They had been so close to triumph, so close to winning… and now what? Where did they go from here?

Stefan was about to say something, Bonnie knew, and maybe she would have let him if her phone hadn't started to ring the exact moment he had opened his mouth.

Bonnie's eyes widened as she caught a glimpse of the caller I.D.

_Caroline._

"I've gotta take this," Bonnie said as she made to stand up. Her movements were not at all graceful, her legs felt practically numb after being sat on the floor for so long. Once she'd finally struggled her way into the hallway, she answered the phone.

* * *

><p>Elena Gilbert had tried her hardest to keep quiet, giving her best friend the benefit of the doubt. She always tried her best before storming Caroline's thunder after all, but this was where she drew the line.<p>

They were sat at a table at their regular coffee shop on campus after Caroline had practically insisted they go. In fact, for hours now Caroline had been taking Elena from one place to another, immersing her with anything that caught her fancy. Elena was used to Caroline's sudden spur-of-the-moment decisions, but these had seemed different somehow.

"Okay," Elena said after stirring her coffee for a full twenty minutes. "What's the deal?"

Caroline immediately perked up in her seat. Her eyes sparked with their usual charm, a large, forced smile shone brightly on her face. "What deal? We're just two friends getting coffee." As if to emphasise her point, she swept her hand in front of her own coffee cup. Elena tried to supress an eye roll.

"Yes Caroline," she said patiently. "And that would be fine if it wasn't for the fact that you keep checking your phone every two minutes."

"Oh, you saw that?" Caroline deflated as she looked sheepishly at the phone in her hand, not-so inconspicuously hidden underneath the table. Elena flashed a smile of her own.

"I'm pretty sure people on the other side of the room can see it," Elena said only half-jokingly. Honestly, she was pretty sure some people had indeed started to notice. Instead of drawing off topic, Elena decided to lead the conversation. Keeping her focus directly on Caroline, she asked, "Is it Bonnie?"

Caroline's defences immediately rose. "W-What?" she spluttered. "Why would it be Bonnie?"

Elena gave Caroline one of her looks that asked _really? We've been friends for years; I think I deserve more credit than that. _Instead of voicing her thoughts, Elena simply took a sip of her coffee before answering, "Because, Caroline, I asked where she was this morning and you told me it was some urgent errand she had to run that she'd _totally forgotten about _and now we're here…" Elena branched out with a knowing smile. "Drinking coffee?" Elena shrugged, unperturbed. "If you're not stalling for _something _then-"

"I'm not stalling!" Caroline insisted, though the slight flush to her cheeks said otherwise.

"Then what, Caroline?" Elena asked exhaustedly. She didn't like fighting with her friends, but she'd been curious all day. Bonnie had been talking about a phone call she had to make that morning and not to worry and now, suddenly, she had disappeared off to God knows where with Caroline keeping her secret? Elena didn't like it. She'd had secrets kept from her for seemingly her whole life and she hated it. She wasn't some defenceless little girl any more. She was a vampire with vampire-hunter training, courtesy of Alaric, she could handle herself.

Caroline seemed to be struggling with an answer and Elena was tied between actually feeling bad for her and wanting to know the truth. Whatever was going on, Bonnie - for whatever reason - didn't want her to know.

"Bonnie's… with Jeremy," Caroline said finally, looking sheepish. "They wanted to spend the day together back in Mystic Falls and I said I'd keep you occupied, y'know, from Damon drama and all that."

"Well why wouldn't she have told me?" Elena could hear the strain in her own voice and she knew it had nothing to do with Bonnie and Jeremy being together. She just… _hated _it when people mentioned Damon. Not since what she had done to make sure they stayed separate. They were bad for each other, she knew that, but… there was a part of her, well, a _lot _of her that couldn't stand being without him. It was like a piece of her was missing. With Damon there was a fire, he was exciting, he always kept Elena on her toes. And, as a vampire, her sense of adrenaline, her need for adventure had heightened along with all her other emotions. Elena loved him with every fibre of her being, but when they were together, they were dangerous. They'd do anything for each other and it had quickly proven that it didn't just affect them, but the people around them. She'd even managed to push Jeremy away and she hated it. So yes, the strain in her voice was a very _Damon _problem. Not that Caroline needed to know that.

"You know she finds it awkward," Caroline said quickly, her tone a little too light and airy for Elena's liking. Elena frowned immediately.

"But she's never-"

"Do you want another coffee?" Caroline said suddenly, her eyes shining brilliantly as she gracefully swept her empty cup into her hand. "Because I want another coffee."

Elena opened her mouth to speak, but Caroline had already bolted towards the barista, her golden hair bouncing across her shoulders as she went.

Elena let out a long breath through her teeth as she watched Caroline disappear amongst the crowds of other college students getting their latest caffeine fix. She supposed this was a better time than any to test Caroline's little story. Digging through her purse, Elena fished out her phone and quickly drew up her contacts list.

* * *

><p>"<em>Bonnie!<em>" Caroline hissed down the phone. She'd hidden herself near the coffee machines. Caroline hoped they'd make enough noise to drown out Elena's heightened hearing if she tried to eavesdrop which – considering the conversation they'd just had – was a major possibility.

Bonnie seemed to be distorting the noise on her end as well, because Caroline was sure she could distinctly hear the sound of a running faucet. Obviously, Stefan didn't know, which kind of made Caroline feel like she was in on some big super-secret. It made her feel a lot more devious than it should have.

She quickly turned her back on Elena's table as she heard Bonnie's voice on the other end. "What is it Caroline?"

Caroline looked skyward in frustration. "_Please _tell me Damon's all better, because I'm not sure how much longer I can keep this up."

She heard Bonnie take a deep breath from the other side before she said, "Far from it, Care. It's a lot more complicated than I thought it would be, but I think we might have found something at the very least."

Caroline sighed in relief. "_Good, _great, but, how much longer is it going to take?"

"I don't know, but you've got to keep Elena occupied, at least for a little longer." Bonnie sounded tired and Caroline could understand why. It couldn't be fun being cooped up in the Salvatore Boarding House studying from grimoires all day, especially when time was a factor.

"How is he?" Caroline wasn't sure why she was asking, on all accounts she shouldn't have cared for Damon all that much. Still, a lot of things had come into perspective since Caroline had been turned into a vampire. For one, she could understand why Damon did what he did; it was the urges of a vampire, it was _natural. _On another account, Damon had saved Caroline's life; he'd pushed her out of the way when Tyler had started to turn and almost sacrificed his own life in the process. She didn't take what he did lightly and, though she'd never really properly voiced her thanks, after that, they seemed to have a mutual, _sort-of _friendship. Caroline didn't condone what Damon had done, especially in the last month, but she couldn't hold it against him either. It was weird; she supposed in a way, Caroline was starting to take Damon for what he was and actually- along the way - started to _like _him.

Bonnie was quiet on the other end before she replied in a much lower voice, "He's not good. It's everything I said and more. Stefan had to vervain him because he was in too much pain to sleep." Caroline frowned as she heard Bonnie's usually cool voice when addressing anything to do with the Salvatores suddenly crack. She bit her lip.

"Are _you _okay?" Caroline asked quietly.

"I think so," Bonnie said, though Caroline could tell she was lying. "It's just; no one deserves to be in this much pain."

Caroline found herself nodding along. "And he won't be for much longer, you'll find a way out of this, I believe in you, _God, _I wish I could be there too."

"Keeping Elena out of it is all the help I could ask for," Bonnie said earnestly and Caroline felt her heart clench.

"Look I've got to go, Stefan will get suspicious," Bonnie said lamely, her voice choked. "Love you."

"Love you too," Caroline smiled against the phone before she heard Bonnie hang up on her end. Caroline let her arm fall to her side with a sigh. Things were just getting harder and harder.

* * *

><p>Bonnie had hidden herself in the kitchen whilst she made the call to Caroline, mostly because it was very rarely used and also, it had a faucet she could use to distort her voice. She didn't think that Stefan would be mad if he knew that she'd told Caroline, but after what they had just discovered, Bonnie didn't want to risk it. Instead, she moved her hand towards the tap. She was about to switch it off when her phone rang again.<p>

Staring at the caller I.D, Bonnie felt a sudden sense of impending doom as she saw the name that flashed before her eyes.

_Jeremy_

Somehow, Bonnie knew what he was going to say before she'd even answered the phone; even still she was surprised to hear it as she held the device up to her ear.

"We've got a problem." Jeremy sounded mildly frantic, but that was only because he didn't know the exact height of the situation. Bonnie sucked in a breath.

"What's happened?" she asked, trying to sound casual.

"Elena called," Jeremy said. "She said Caroline told her you were with me so I said you were, but then she asked me to put you on the phone."

Bonnie felt her heart speed up in her chest. She was immeasurably grateful for the running faucet at her side. She was sure Stefan would have picked up on her sudden spike in anxiety otherwise. "What did you tell her?"

"I said you'd gone out, but I don't think she bought it. She knows something's going on."

Bonnie rubbed a hand over her face in exasperation. How much further could this plan go without Elena figuring it out on her own? She wasn't stupid, if Bonnie wasn't with Jeremy, there were only a handful of other places she might be. "Caroline's with her at the moment," Bonnie said, trying to sound reassuring, but she knew she was failing. "She's keeping her occupied; hopefully she won't ask more questions."

"Yeah, but why is it so important she doesn't know? What _is _going on Bonnie?"

"It's just… I can't…" Bonnie drew off, her eyes darting about the kitchen as if some utensil within the room might give her a clue for a new lie. Nothing came to mind and she sighed in frustration. "It's nothing to worry about."

"You said that before." Jeremy sounded impatient. "But if you won't tell me, what else am I supposed to think?"

"It's…" Bonnie's mouth grew dry as she stared helplessly at the running faucet. She leant against one of the nearby cabinets in defeat. "It's Damon."

* * *

><p>The vervain didn't give Damon the exact effect he was looking for. For one, he didn't feel at all refreshed; in fact, it felt like he hadn't slept at all.<p>

_Maybe that's because there's a huge difference between sleeping and being knocked out, _he thought bitterly. It didn't matter anyway, because Damon was back with the land of the living, _sort of._ His head was swimming furiously as the vervain began to drain from his system, leaving Damon in a state of paralysed bliss. The aches and pains had yet to make a return, though his senses were coming back to him. Damon could feel the sheets tangled around his legs and smell the salty tang of his own sickness drenching his pillows. He could also hear, though the voices sounded faint, as though they were coming through a tunnel.

"_It's Damon."_

"_What do you mean, what about Damon?"_

Damon grimaced as the voices rang in his ears. Bonnie the teenage not-so witch was downstairs in the kitchen. And, to make matters a whole lot worse, she was talking to Jeremy.

"_He's sick with something, a curse and Stefan made me promise not to tell anyone, especially not Elena, he didn't want to stress her out and honestly, I didn't want to either."_

Well, Bonnie was blabbing all their secrets to Jeremy; _great_. That's exactly what he needed right now, the annoying Gilbert brother knowing _everything _that was going on, including Damon's sorry-ass state. It was bad enough that Bonnie had seen him begging for vervain, now she might as well have told the whole damn town. Damon made a muffled noise into his pillow; which must have signified his consciousness to Stefan, because suddenly he could feel his little brother's presence at his side.

"What the Hell, you shouldn't be awake yet," Stefan muttered.

Damon really wanted to roll his eyes, at the very least make some kind of bitter comment. Irksomely, he couldn't talk yet; all he could do was listen.

"_So you weren't going to tell me? If Damon's dangerous then let me come over."_

"_No! He's not dangerous, he's not even conscious. We're working on finding a cure, you shouldn't even know this Jeremy, you have to promise to keep it secret!"_

Yeah, sure, like _that_ would do any good. If Jeremy knew, it wouldn't be long before Bus Boy and Lockwood caught wind of what was going on. After all, teenage boys were totally _predictable. _Damon could hear Stefan talking to him, but it was only a faint murmur at the back of his head. Right now, he was more intrigued by Jeremy's answer.

"_You should tell Elena, it's not fair."_

Damon felt something sharp in his chest, and for a moment he thought the pain was starting to return. When no further aches came, he realised it was the mention of Elena. Great. Even when he was practically unconscious it seemed just the mere utterance of her name did something to him.

"_We can't, not yet, if she comes over… I mean I'm being careful around him but Elena won't. She might be a vampire but Damon's still Damon; I don't know what he could be capable of in this state."_

_Damon's still Damon? _Did he seriously hear her correctly? _That bitch._ Bonnie of all people should know that Elena was one person he'd _never _hurt. Despite this, Damon could see where she was coming from in an oddly vacant kind of way. Right now he was docile only because of the vervain dregs in his system, once they were gone the pain of hunger would return and if Bonnie and Stefan couldn't find a way of getting him blood, it really wouldn't matter. Damon knew the stages of hunger as well as any vampire. If the hunger wasn't sated soon…

"Damon, can you hear me?" Damon was knocked out of his thoughts as he felt Stefan's hand gently shake his shoulder. The action sent the first inkling of pain into his body, effectively throwing him out of his eavesdropping. The voices were lost to him over the sounds of crashing water, sending the first shooting pains back into his skull. He winced before opening his eyes. Stefan was stood in front of him, looking concerned. It seemed to be a permanent feature to his face now. Damon almost smiled.

"It's only been an hour," Stefan said worriedly, threading his fingers through his _hero hair_. "The dose I gave you shouldn't have left you so quickly."

Damon's head was still fuzzy, so the words weren't exactly sinking in. Instead, with an effort, he brought his finger up to his lips and smirked, moving his gaze over to the doorway. "Bonnie's been telling little Gilbert our secrets," he sang. His voice was dry and his throat burned with the effort of talking, but the vervain had left him with the sensation of being pleasantly hammered. It wasn't the worst feeling in the world.

"What do you mean?" Stefan asked uncertainly.

Damon let out a huff of laughter as he turned away from his brother. "Bonnie's been a naughty little witch," Damon slurred before frowning. "Uh, not-so witch, she's in _cahoots_ with Lil Gilbert."

Stefan rolled his eyes. "You've still got vervain in you, you aren't thinking clearly."

"I know what I heard Stefan." Damon was surprised by the sobriety in his tone. He cracked a smile as his blue eyes wondered over to his _baby bro_. "She's trying to cover it up, _listen._"

Damon watched eagerly as Stefan focused his vampiric hearing towards the kitchen. The frown that etched his face was a new personal best by far. "I… I can't hear anything; she's got the faucet running." Stefan turned to Damon in disbelief. "You can hear her?"

Damon tapped his ear with a wince, winking carelessly. "One of the only good things to come out of this curse, brother," he murmured with a coy smile.

Stefan stared mutely at Damon and then towards the door, the muscles in his arm tensed as he gripped an object in his hand a little tighter.

Damon's eyes sparked as he glanced down at the object. It looked like a book. "What's that?" he asked.

Stefan looked at the book reprovingly. "It's a grimoire," he branched off awkwardly. "It, uh, it mentions the curse."

Damon very nearly sat up with interest. Unfortunately, the pleasantry the vervain had given him was passing now, leaving his body feeling stiff with the first of his old aches and pains. Damon closed his eyes in an attempt at getting his bearings straight. He tried to think of anything other than the looming problem of his impending hunger. "Does it say anything about a cure?" Damon blinked rapidly before looking at Stefan expectantly.

Stefan shook his head stiffly. "That's the problem. The book is filled with curses and poisons, but it doesn't mention any cures."

Damon winced as he tried to prop himself up against his pillow. A shooting pain in his arm sent him back against the mattress with a barely stifled yelp of agony. Stefan was by his side in an instant, holding out his hand in means of support to help his brother get comfortable.

Damon tried to look grateful, but the symptoms were showing themselves one after another at a rate he could barely keep up with. The room started to spin and he was forced to close his eyes. "There's always a loophole," Damon bit out before sucking in a deep breath. Maybe vervain hadn't been the best idea after all.

Damon could feel Stefan's worry radiating from him, but he didn't have the energy to say anything about it. Instead, he leant back into his pillow. "So _Saint Stefan_," he muttered before looking up. "What's the plan?"

* * *

><p>Stefan was about to answer his brother when Bonnie walked in. She was slipping her phone back into her pocket when she paused in the doorway. Her mouth fell open in surprise as she caught sight of Damon.<p>

"How long was I gone?" she asked as she glanced from Stefan to Damon who had, with a groan, turned away from the young anchor.

Stefan rolled his eyes. Damon didn't like people seeing him at his weakest point. It was bad enough his own brother had seen him this way, but at least that was something that couldn't be avoided. Bonnie was… odd territory. The two seemed to be on better grounds with each other nowadays, in fact, in a way, Stefan thought they actually seemed to get along. Damon respected Bonnie's character and the power she still maintained despite losing her powers, Stefan could see it in the way the elder Salvatore regarded her. In fact, Stefan sometimes saw that same look on Bonnie. They had a grudging respect for one another, an ability to understand each other's struggles which put them in an odd space relationship-wise. Stefan always found it quite charming, because it seemed that both witch and vampire were just too stubborn to break the barrier and call themselves _friends._

With a sigh, Stefan shrugged. "Not that long, the vervain didn't last as long as I thought."

"Probably another _exciting _addition to this curse," Damon said from where he lay on his back, one arm draped carelessly over his face. Stefan could tell he was putting on an act, mostly for Bonnie's benefit, but also for Stefan's. Still, the vervain would be completely out of his system soon enough and even now, Stefan could see the pain resurfacing in his brother's eyes. Damon was doing well at hiding it, but soon he wouldn't be able to. And when that time came, Stefan wasn't sure how safe it would be to keep Bonnie in the room.

"Maybe we should go back downstairs," Stefan suggested.

"Yeah, maybe you can ask about her secret conversation with Lil Gilbert whilst you're at it," Damon added. Stefan was sure he could see a smile on his brother's face. If he hadn't been cursed, Stefan might have felt frustrated. As it was, he was just glad Damon had maintained a sense of humour.

Bonnie, however, was frozen on the spot. "I don't know what you're talking about."

"Oh save it Bon Bon," Damon muttered, though his voice sounded strained. "I heard your little conversation downstairs."

Bonnie's eyes widened exponentially. "How did you-"

"His hearing's heightened," Stefan explained lightly. "It's part of the curse."

Stefan was almost sure he saw Damon wink in Bonnie's direction. Bonnie's expression, however, stood somewhere between cold fury and sheer terror.

Stefan raised his arms in an attempt to calm the tension that was gradually rising within the room. "It's alright, Bonnie," he said. "If Jeremy knows, he knows, just… try to keep him away from the house."

"Yeah, don't want your boyfriend becoming an afternoon snack," Damon added, though his voice didn't hold its usual level of unpleasantry when teasing his friends. Stefan suspected the pain was coming on stronger. His thoughts were confirmed when he saw Damon flinch on the bed, an action that might have been missed by most. But not him.

Bonnie, however, seemed to notice something off too, for she was looking at anything _but_ Damon. Finally, she glanced towards Stefan. "Can I talk to you in the hall for a second?" she asked.

Damon glanced at her sideways from under his arm before cracking a faint smile. "Won't stop me from hearing."

Bonnie scowled at him. "I don't care about that, just, can you?" She looked back up at Stefan. He knew that look. She was uncomfortable. Now that Damon was awake and still maintaining enough vervain to keep his mood up, he could aggravate her with ease... but it wasn't just that. He could also evoke her empathy. Stefan didn't hold it against her, seeing Damon is this state wasn't easy. Instead, Stefan nodded, giving his brother a very meaningful look before crossing the room and stepping outside. He made sure to close the door behind him.

"Thanks," Bonnie muttered as she folded her arms around herself.

Stefan nodded before asking, "Are you okay?"

Bonnie chewed her lip for a moment before shaking her head. "Not really. Jeremy isn't the only one that knows."

Stefan closed his eyes momentarily. He figured just as much, but even still, the more people that knew, the easier it would be for Elena to find something out. "Who?"

"Caroline," Bonnie said sheepishly before raising her hands. "But that's it, I swear. I needed someone to keep Elena out of the loop."

Stefan nodded his understanding. Caroline knowing wasn't the end of the world and, if she'd agreed to help keep Elena out of it, then how could he judge? Still, Stefan couldn't help but notice the tension that continued to line Bonnie's shoulders, as if there was more bad news she needed to get off her chest. "Bonnie," he said evenly. "What aren't you telling me?"

Bonnie sighed. "Elena's starting to ask questions. She called Jeremy looking for me and when I wasn't there to talk to her, it made her even more suspicious… Caroline is with her but I'm not sure how she's handling, I haven't talked to her since." Bonnie shrugged hopelessly. "Wouldn't this all be easier if Elena knew?"

"I want to tell her, I do," Stefan said earnestly. It was the truth; out of everyone Elena was the one person who had the most right to know about what was going on with Damon. Despite this, Stefan was worried. Worried because he didn't know what this curse entailed; he didn't know if it would change Damon's behaviour or make him aggressive. The warning in the Trickster's grimoire did little to help his concern. He didn't want to bring Elena in on this because he knew she'd want to help. But if she tried to help, she could get hurt in the process, and Stefan knew that neither he nor Damon could live with themselves if they let that happen. "I just don't want her to get hurt."

Bonnie nodded. "I get it… but she's a vampire, Stefan. Plus, she's trained. She knows how to defend herself."

"But from Damon?" Stefan looked up to Bonnie with a pleading glint in his eye. He wanted her to see it like he did. Elena could protect herself from other vampires, no problem. But if it was _Damon _coming at her, what would she do then?

Bonnie took a deep breath before she reached out and, very gently, placed one of her hands on Stefan's shoulder. Stefan very nearly flinched at the contact; Bonnie hardly ever touched him like that. He wasn't sure she'd ever seen him properly upset. Still, the gesture was appreciated. "I'm sorry I brought it up," Bonnie said quietly. "I'm sure Caroline will be able to-"

But she never got to finish, for mid-way through her sentence a loud _CRASH _resounded from inside the bedroom.

Stefan's eyes widened as he turned to the door at lightning speed. He put his hand on the doorknob and gave Bonnie a meaningful look. "Go downstairs."

Bonnie was pale-faced in the dim hallway. She nodded her understanding before disappearing out of sight.

Stefan opened the door as soon as she was gone. He wasn't sure what he was expecting, anarchy of some kind, broken objects or maybe even Damon in some sort of vampiric rage. Instead, he found his brother lying on his stomach in bed, a pillow firmly shoved over his head. Moving his gaze across the room, Stefan saw a small dent in the plaster of the wall furthest from Damon's bed. Under closer inspection he could see the remnants of Damon's cell phone on the floor, broken into at least half a dozen scattered pieces.

Stefan could feel a metaphorical migraine, he was sure. Rubbing the bridge of his nose, he looked towards his brother whose body was tense under the pillow.

"What happened?" he asked in equal parts concern and exasperation.

Damon didn't move his head from under his pillow, but Stefan was fortunate enough to pick up on his voice anyway. "It wouldn't stop _ringing._"

Stefan wasn't sure whether to laugh in incredulous disbelief or to feel genuinely concerned. Instead, he cleared his throat. "So you threw it across the room?"

Damon moved his head from under the pillow, leaving his dark hair sticking up at obscure angles. His face was paler, which immediately made Stefan nervous. Evidently, the last dregs of vervain were out of his system.

"My head is killing me, every noise is like a freaking _gong _going off inside my skull," Damon bit out murderously. "So yes, I _broke it._"

If the acidic bite in his voice wasn't enough proof to tell Stefan that Damon's sense of humour had now officially left the building, then he definitely wouldn't have missed it in his brother's body language. Damon was tense, evidently fighting the pain that had now fully returned to his body. He fell back against the mattress, shoulders taut as he muttered a few indistinct curses into his pillow.

Stefan moved across his brother's bedroom warily. He stopped to study the pieces of broken phone on the floor. The screen was lying in three separate pieces, leaving no indication of who the caller might have been. Still, Stefan thought it pretty obvious. Only one person would be calling Damon right now, especially if they had already tried both Jeremy and Bonnie.

Stefan closed his eyes.

_Elena._

* * *

><p><em>AN: _Okay, added note for the 'Trickster's Curse' message, I tried my best with getting the right versions of thou, thee, thy and everything in between but if you have noticed that I've made a mistake anywhere in that message feel free to tell me. Thank you!


	6. CC

_A/N:_ Thank you for being patient, the next chapter is finally here! I just want to thank you guys so much for the positive reviews and I hope that you continue to enjoy the story. Until next time!

* * *

><p><strong>Cursed Disease<strong>

_Chapter 6_

_"C.C"_

"Elena, calm down," Caroline pleaded, though she knew it would do no good. Caroline hadn't realised Elena had been calling someone until it was too late. Now that Elena had made the call, she was furious. Well, she had every right to be, Caroline supposed, she _was_ having the monster of all secrets kept from her.

"No, Caroline, I won't calm down!" Elena fumed as she stood up from her chair. Caroline noted the few odd looks they were receiving from nearby tables. "Bonnie's not with Jeremy and she's not answering her phone either." Elena thrust her phone out towards Caroline as if to emphasise this. "I even tried calling _Damon _but his phone cut out before it finished ringing!"

"Wait," Caroline said. "You called Damon?"

Elena gave her a furious look. Evidently, she was still coming to terms with dealing with her new vampiric rage. Caroline could relate. Even still, it was pretty scary seeing this side of Elena. "Caroline, now is not the time to give me Hell for calling Damon." Elena threw her phone back into her purse before swinging her bag viciously over her shoulder.

"Whoa, wait," Caroline said sharply, darting out to block Elena's path. "Where do you think you're going?"

"To get some answers," Elena snapped as she tried to side-step Caroline who continued to invade her line of exit. "No one's answering their phone, so I'm going to go to them."

"Mystic Falls?" Caroline yelped. This was _so _not what she had expected when Bonnie had told her to distract Elena. Then again, her friend had always been stubborn. "Oh come on, Elena, it's not what you think!"

"Then tell me!" Elena rounded back on Caroline, her teeth very nearly bared. Caroline hated keeping secrets from her best friend; she hated the fact that Elena was mad with her. She just wanted to make everything right, but if she did, there'd be Hell to pay from Stefan, not to mention Bonnie.

"_Oh,_" Caroline hissed in frustration. "I can't!"

"Why not?"

"I just can't okay?"

"_Caroline Forbes-"_

God knows how long their back and forth might have continued had it not been for Caroline's phone beeping with an incoming text message at that exact moment. With a dramatic flip of her hair, Caroline awkwardly broke eye contact with her furious friend to read the message.

Her stomach dropped when she realised who had sent it.

_Stefan._

He'd texted her two words. Just two, but the meaning was very clear all the same. Caroline sucked in a breath as she looked up to Elena in defeat.

_Tell her._

"Okay," Caroline said bluntly. "Promise not to get mad and I'll tell you everything I know."

* * *

><p>Bonnie was waiting in the parlour when Stefan finally made his reappearance.<p>

She shot up to her feet immediately, taking in his pale face and haunted expression all at once. "What is it, what happened?"

Stefan shook his head mutely. "Nothing, it's fine, Damon just broke his phone, that's all."

Bonnie's eyebrows shot up with incredulity. "That's _all? _Why'd he break his phone?"

Stefan closed his eyes, rubbing the bridge of his nose exhaustedly. Bonnie felt a pang for the younger Salvatore, but she didn't know what to do about it. She'd tried to comfort Stefan earlier, but holding his shoulder like that, it wasn't her place and they both knew it.

"His hearing's heightened, it started to ring and it pissed him off." Stefan cracked a smile. "I should have seen it coming, really."

Bonnie knew that wasn't the whole story. Stefan's shoulders were so tightly strained with tension she could practically feel it radiating from him. She folded her arms across her chest. "What else happened?" she demanded.

When Stefan only shrugged, Bonnie narrowed her eyes. "Stefan?"

"I… I told Caroline to tell Elena," Stefan said quietly, his gaze lowering to the ground. "It's best she knows now, we're running out of time anyway."

Bonnie flinched at the way Stefan's voice cracked. She didn't want him to give up hope, not now, not after what they had found out. She wanted to take a second look at the Trickster's grimoire, anyway. There was something she could remember from it, some piece of the puzzle that she was missing.

"It's good that she knows," Bonnie said honestly. She bit her lip when Stefan made no move to answer her. "Stefan, she'll be coming here to help and we need all the help we can get."

Stefan shook his head. "It's dangerous for her to be here right now."

"You keep saying that, but I don't understand," Bonnie said impatiently. "Damon can't even stand and you're worried he'll hurt Elena, I don't see-"

"Do you know what the stages of hunger are for a vampire?" Stefan asked suddenly, cutting Bonnie off mid-sentence. Bonnie's eyes widened at the coldness in his tone, but otherwise only shook her head.

"First, you feel the need for blood like a burning in your veins," Stefan said savagely, his eyes boring intensely into Bonnie's. "The burning continues until it's like a fire inside of you. It's agonising. That's the stage Damon's at. It's also not what I'm worried about." Stefan took a step forward. "Do you want to know what happens next?"

Bonnie wanted to shake her head no. She didn't want to hear it, didn't want to know what kind of agony Damon was suffering. Instead, she stood her ground.

It didn't matter that she hadn't answered, because Stefan only continued: "After you've suffered too much pain, that's when you start to go rabid. It no longer matters what kind of blood you drink, it could be animal, could be human, could be from a bag, could be from the vein." Stefan's look grew even darker. "It could be from a vampire."

Bonnie felt an icy coldness clench at the base of her gut. She stared unblinkingly at Stefan as she let his words sink in. Oh God, now she understood. "You think he'll try to drink from her."

"I know he will," Stefan said darkly. "He'll try to drink from any one of us sooner or later, but when the hunger's that bad, he won't be able to stop." Stefan's hands were clenched tightly at his sides. "A rabid vampire is as good as a Ripper."

Bonnie felt her heart plummet. "Oh, God."

"That's why we need to find this cure _now_," Stefan said thickly. "That's why we need to find a way to feed Damon before he turns rabid."

* * *

><p>Elena had sat patiently as she allowed Caroline to recount her side of the story. She didn't know what she had been expecting exactly. Maybe that Klaus had returned or that Katherine was somehow back from the dead, <em>again.<em> Maybe even Silas… something big and bad that for whatever reason, no one had wanted her to know about. What she hadn't expected, however, was exactly what she got. _Damon._

As soon as Caroline said his name, everything crumbled around her. Elena tried to remain calm, at least for Caroline's benefit, but on the inside her mind was shouting at her.

_Damon's sick_

_Damon's cursed!?_

_Damon's… dying?_

Caroline hadn't necessarily said the last one out loud, but Elena knew it had been implied. Truthfully, Caroline had said she didn't know what was going on with Damon except that he was in pain and wasn't keeping blood down. That was all it took before Elena could hear no more. There was a rushing in her head where coherent thought should have been. Before she knew what she was doing, her hands were diving madly inside her handbag for her car keys.

She only realised she was standing when Caroline grabbed her arm and pulled her into a hug.

Elena couldn't feel the embrace, she was numb all over. She could only stand motionlessly on the spot as she let Caroline attempt to comfort her. When the blonde finally pulled away, Elena made another move towards the door.

"I have to go to him," Elena said in a rush. How could she _not? _This whole thing, keeping their distance, had been a terrible idea. It hadn't even been two days and something had already gone wrong. She thought she could prevent this stuff by staying away from him, but it didn't matter. Her relationship wasn't the problem, it was her _life._

"I know you do," Caroline said comfortingly. "But you're going to have to let me drive."

Elena looked down at the keys in her hands. She hadn't even noticed the blood dripping from a growing gash she had created in her palm from gripping them too tightly. An ironic smile twisted her lips. "Okay," she said breathlessly. "But we've got to go now."

* * *

><p>Stefan hadn't allowed Bonnie to follow him back up the stairs, though he had promised to bring the grimoires down for her, including the Trickster's. Stefan didn't know what kind of name <em>t<em>_he Trickster _was but it didn't sound like a title a witch might go by. Then again, there was also the illusive writing of the witch only known as _C.C._ Stefan wasn't sure what it meant that the book had been written in both English and Latin; he didn't understand the cryptic warning that C.C had left about the _Trickster's Curse. _All he knew was C.C or the Trickster might have held the answers. That was, of course, if they were still alive.

But the book had been written a long time ago. Stefan could see that from the yellowish tinge the pages had taken or the fact that the cover had been replaced nearly half a dozen times. Witches could increase their lifespan for a little over a century, but never more than that. Nature wouldn't allow it.

Bonnie had suggested trying to find mentions of C.C or the Trickster in the other grimoires, confessing she might have seen their names once in one of the Bennett spell books. Stefan wasn't sure what that meant for their pursuit, but Bonnie was convinced she might be able to trace the location they might find the ancestors, at the very least, of the two witches.

Stefan entered Damon's bedroom for what felt like the millionth time that day. Damon was lying on his side, his body crumpled and exhausted. Stefan hadn't told Damon that Elena was coming, mostly because he was afraid how Damon might take it. The brothers both knew just as well as each other what happened to a vampire in the final stages of starvation and if Damon knew what Elena was about to get herself into… Stefan knew he'd never be forgiven.

Damon did look up when Stefan entered, however, though Stefan could sense something wasn't right with him, more so than before. He was shivering under the sheets where – most likely - his body's internal temperature was being confused by the fever. Despite his inexperience with sickness of any kind, Stefan knew that was a bad sign.

"You need more sheets," Stefan noted as he abandoned the grimoires for the time being. Instead he moved to place a hand over his brother's forehead. He was still burning up.

Damon shook his head exhaustedly. His eyes had lost their shine as he stared outwards at nothing in particular. Despite the vervain giving him an hour's rest, it seemed to have done nothing more than aggravate his symptoms.

"Doesn't matter," Damon croaked, closing his eyes against his pillow. "I'll be too hot again sooner or later."

Stefan frowned. "You didn't tell me about that."

One of Damon's eyes opened warily. He tried to smile, but gave up once it proved too much effort. "Like it matters, you can't do anything-" Damon paused as he started to cough. Stefan watched helplessly as Damon wrapped his arms around his chest as the coughing fit continued. His body spasmed painfully until, finally, he managed to catch his breath. He looked exhausted, his eyes were barely holding open, but Stefan knew it wouldn't matter. Damon couldn't sleep.

"What was the book?" Damon asked after a moment's silence. "The one you said had the curse in it."

Stefan's eyes traced the room for it. It was on Damon's night stand. Stefan must have left it there when Bonnie had come into the room asking to talk to him.

Stefan lifted it up in front of him and Damon squinted as he tried to make out the title. In the state he was in, Stefan supposed it would be pretty hard for Damon to read anything at all. Finally, Damon frowned. "_The Trickster_, huh?"

"We think they must be a witch," Stefan explained shortly. "More importantly, we think the Trickster cursed you."

Damon closed his eyes, though his eyebrows knotted with confusion. "I don't know any tricksters," he murmured.

"You don't have to know the witch to get cursed," Stefan said as he flipped through the grimoire idly. "Bonnie says powerful witches can connect curses to objects or people, sometimes they can be more abstract than that."

Damon rolled his eyes. "Great," he grunted.

"Here," Stefan said, placing the book on the mattress just under Damon's nose. "That's all it says about your curse."

Damon's eyes scanned the page lazily, though Stefan read along in his head:

* * *

><p><em>Beware those who madden the Trickster, f'r the foulest of curses shall be sent down upon thee. Thy corse will reject its essence. Thou shalt wither with sickness. If thou doth not fear the Trickster, thou hast made a mistake most grave.<em>

_-C.C_

* * *

><p>When Damon came to the end of the paragraph, his body stiffened. Stefan couldn't blame him; after all, he <em>was<em> reading a literal warning for a curse that he had already received. A curse with no mention of a cure, no less.

Damon's gaze shot up at Stefan. There was something different in his eyes, a light shining in the backs of them. He cleared his throat. "Who's C.C?"

Stefan frowned; Damon was definitely keeping something from him. "We don't know, but we think they were the witch that helped the Trickster."

Damon laughed. He _actually _laughed. It sounded coarse and horrible, but it was a laugh nonetheless. "You have got to be kidding me; you have to be _kidding _me."

Stefan felt as though he were missing out on an inside joke. "What are you talking about?"

Damon glanced up at Stefan, seeming to momentarily forget where he was. "Go to my dresser, second drawer down at the very back."

Stefan stayed where he was. "Not until you tell me what's going on."

Damon only rolled his eyes, though there was definitely more life in him than there had been ten seconds ago. "Just do it."

Reluctantly, Stefan walked over to Damon's dresser, expertly evading the pieces of broken cell phone that still lay strewn across the floorboards. He opened the drawer and reached towards the back. He frowned. "What am I looking for?"

Damon had rolled onto his back with a decent amount of effort. He smiled towards the ceiling. "You'll know when you find it."

Stefan wasn't sure what his brother meant. That was, until, his hand traced over something that was definitely not an article of clothing. Lacing his fingers over the object, he pulled it out. Damon lifted his hand away from the bed. "Give it here."

Mutely, Stefan carried the object towards his brother. It was a small leather-bound address book.

Damon took the book out of Stefan's hands and cracked it open. Stefan watched with interest as his brother flicked through the pages. Some were completely blank, others not so much. Most of the filled pages were covered with broken names or phrases. Maybe a phone number or two. Stefan should have guessed that _this _was how Damon kept track of his past encounters. An _address book. _No diary or journal needed.

Finally, Damon seemed to find what he was looking for. His eyes lit up with that same emotion Stefan couldn't quite place, but it was positive, which made Stefan's hopes rise along with it. Damon withdrew a piece of paper that had been tacked to the page and handed it to Stefan. "Look familiar?" he asked faintly.

Stefan snatched the paper out of his brother's hand, giving him a dubious look. He glanced at the paper before his eyes widened in surprise.

"But this…" he said slowly.

The paper, which comprised of one single note, was written in a very familiar swirled scrawl.

* * *

><p><em>Australia is wonderful this time of year <em>

_C.C_

* * *

><p>Stefan gaped at the paper before looking towards Damon whose expression was unreadable, though somehow mocking. "Where did you get this?" Stefan demanded. "<em>When <em>did you get this?"

Damon shrugged, though he immediately stopped when a look of pain crossed his face. "A few months ago."

"But this is the same writing, this is _C.C's writing._"

Damon nodded, unsurprised.

"You know C.C?" Stefan knew he was babbling, but he couldn't help it. He threaded a hand through his hair unconsciously. "C.C's still alive?"

Damon rolled his eyes. "Of course she is; she's a vampire."

* * *

><p>Elena studied her hand passively as she sat in the passenger's seat of Caroline's car. The wound she sustained earlier had already healed, though Caroline had insisted on getting her a pack of tissues to wipe off the blood stains in case someone noticed. Elena had wiped them away as though she were in a trance. Everything that had happened after Caroline told her the truth felt somewhat unreal, like it was all happening to someone else and Elena was just a fateful observer. She knew the feeling of disconnectedness would wear off soon enough; she could already begin to feel her gut twist apprehensively as they drew closer towards Mystic Falls.<p>

"Who cursed him?" Elena asked, noticing Caroline jump from the corner of her eye. She hadn't spoken for so long, she'd expected her voice to come out hoarse, but it was surprisingly strong. Sometimes she forgot the perks to being a vampire. Especially when her mind was elsewhere.

"That's what Stefan and Bonnie were trying to figure out," Caroline said, her hands gripping the wheel a little too tightly. "Last I heard, they'd found something." Caroline shrugged tensely, her gaze flicking to her rear view mirror. "I'm not sure what it was though."

Elena let out a slow breath. "I'm sorry, Care, about how I acted before-"

"You don't have to apologize," Caroline interrupted sternly. "I get it." She cocked her head to the side with a wince. "I _hate _that I get it, but I do. You love Damon and I'd act the same way if someone had hidden a secret that _big _from me too, I mean… it was pretty crappy of us." Caroline glanced sideways at Elena, an eyebrow half raised. "Though technically it was Stefan's idea so if you want to throw _anyone _under the bus…"

"Oh believe me," Elena said. "He won't get off lightly for this."

"He wanted to protect you," Caroline admitted. "I mean, he went the wrong way about it, but I think he's just worried about Damon doing something he'll regret."

Elena felt a pang in her chest. _Oh believe me, _she thought, _Damon's done enough of that already. _The problem was, no matter _what _Damon did, Elena just couldn't stop loving him. He tried to be good for her, no, he _was _good for her, but there was also part of him that begged to indulge in his vampiric nature. And Elena understood. When Elena had first turned, she'd gotten a taste of what real power felt like. When she'd been sired to Damon and he'd told her to kill Connor… though she hated to think about it now, she'd actually _enjoyed _it. Snapping his neck was so _second nature _and biting into his neck well, that's what vampires did, didn't they?

Elena knew it was wrong, but on some level she understood the things Damon did. His personality fluctuated from one extreme to the other, but Elena didn't hold that against him. In fact, in a way, it proved how much he cared, though he rarely admitted to it. Elena knew Damon better than she knew herself; he acted on impulse, he was driven by the desire to protect the people he cared about. Though, at the same time, that behaviour could lead to disaster simply because sometimes he didn't _think. _It was reckless, but so was Elena and, together, they were the singularly best thing for each other. When Elena was with Damon, he would focus his extremities on passion and devotion and so would she. When Elena was with him, she couldn't picture herself anywhere else.

Elena felt a blush creep across her cheeks. It hurt the more she thought about it. All the wild emotions that Damon gave her, all that reckless love and now… now he was cursed with God knows what and he wasn't drinking blood. The way Caroline had spoken when she'd mentioned it, the pain in her voice. She was worried, and if _Caroline_ was worried…

Elena found her breath coming out in short, laboured pants. She hated all this waiting, hated knowing that when she got to the Salvatore House all Hell would break loose. More importantly, she hated that she hadn't been there for Damon the moment this had all started. But she was going to fix that, all she had was time.

* * *

><p>"C.C is a <em>vampire?<em>" Bonnie asked incredulously. Stefan had tried to keep her out of Damon's room, but the moment he'd told her that they had a direct lead to C.C, it had been a lot harder than he had anticipated.

Now, Bonnie was stood at the foot of Damon's bed, much to Damon's chagrin. Stefan could see the humiliation in Damon's expression, but also the pain. After telling Stefan about C.C, the light of excitement in Damon's eyes had faded. The symptoms had finally won him over, making it hard for him to say or do much of anything. Currently, Damon was lying on his back, eyes closed, though Stefan knew he was still very much awake. His skin was paler, and there were twin trails of sweat running down from his temples.

Stefan nodded to Bonnie's question. "Yes, she is," he said, though he wasn't really paying attention.

Bonnie shook her head fiercely. "But _how? _This grimoire the _whole _grimoire is about killing vampires." Bonnie waved the leather bound book in her hand purposefully. "And you're telling me that C.C wrote it alongside a witch? A witch who wanted to kill her species?"

Damon's eyes cracked open warily. "What can I say, she was one twisted bitch." There was a fondness in his tone, though, proving to Stefan that he didn't really mean it.

"Do you have any way of contacting her?" Stefan asked in an attempt to spur on the conversation.

Damon's eyes traced warily to the address book abandoned on his night stand. "In there," he said weakly. "I put her new number with the last note."

"How do you know her?" Bonnie asked as Stefan flicked through the address book. The younger Salvatore glanced up at her. There was an interested glint in her eye. Stefan supposed he could understand why. He too was rather curious as to know why Damon kept in contact with a vampire who helped study the method of killing others of her species. Still, Stefan knew the time and place to ask those questions and, right now, was not that time.

Damon had closed his eyes again. "It's a long story."

Bonnie frowned. "Were you two _together?_"

Damon groaned.

"Bonnie, that's enough," Stefan said warily as he continued to flick through the address book. Finally, he found the page he was looking for. There was an empty space where the note from C.C had been tacked, but underneath was a clear cell phone number written in Damon's handwriting. Stefan wasn't sure how he'd obtained it, considering it wasn't included on her note, but he didn't question it. Instead he read it aloud for Damon to confirm.

When Damon nodded that it was the right number, Stefan pulled out his cell phone. "I'll make the call, unless _you _want to talk to her."

Damon kept his eyes closed but there was no denying the venom in his tone when he said, "Don't test me brother." He shook his head exhaustedly. "Make the call, but be prepared to leave a message."

Stefan frowned. "Why?"

Damon opened his eyes in exasperation. "Because she's a bitch who doesn't pick up her phone, okay?"

Bonnie raised one of her eyebrows. "Is she going to be helpful, I mean, she isn't on your list of people you pissed off?"

Stefan couldn't help but see where Bonnie was coming from. A lot of Damon's past encounters hadn't ended _well. _At least not in a way that left lasting good graces if he had to trace someone back. Damon only shook his head before flinching with a grimace. "She'll listen, as long as you prove you're worth her time, use her full name-" Damon's voice hitched and he started to cough, though Stefan immediately knew something was wrong. This coughing fit was much stronger, eliciting moans of pain from the older Salvatore as he choked into his palm. Bonnie, horrified, took a step back in bewilderment as Stefan hooked an arm around his brother's shoulder, keeping him upright as his chest spasmed painfully.

By the time Damon had finished, scarlet liquid was dripping from between his fingers.

"Bonnie, get a towel," Stefan demanded as Damon fell against his brother, his breathing ragged. Stefan grabbed him firmly, keeping him from slipping backwards. "It's alright," Stefan murmured into Damon's ear. "It's okay."

Bonnie came rushing back from the bathroom with a towel. She immediately retreated as soon as Stefan had it in his possession. "Go downstairs," Stefan commanded, hating how Bonnie flinched at his tone.

Bonnie only nodded her understanding before leaving the room. Stefan noticed she paused in the doorway, giving both Damon and Stefan a sympathetic look before retreating downstairs.

Damon's body was still shuddering with pain, even as Stefan gently wiped his mouth where the blood had trickled down his lips and chin. Damon didn't put up a fuss, mostly because he was far too exhausted. Stefan noticed with a wince that Damon's fangs had descended slightly at the promise of blood, no longer able to distinguish between a human's and his own. Stefan closed his eyes as he gently lowered Damon back against the mattress. This was bad, _really _bad.

Another moan of pain brought Stefan back into the moment. Damon's lids fluttered as he looked up to his brother with confused, fever glazed eyes. "Y-You have t-to call her," Damon ground out, his voice barely audible. "N-not much time."

Stefan nodded his head, fighting the urge to hold his brother closer. "You said I had to use her full name," Stefan said quietly.

Damon nodded as Stefan finally withdrew from the bed. He tucked the sheets over his older brother as he moved, hating that there was nothing he could do to make this any easier for him. Damon closed his eyes as he let his head fall back against his pillow, all of his energy completely spent. "C-Constance Childes," Damon croaked eventually. "She'll know what to do."


	7. Close Comfort

_A/N: _I've just realised that this chapter is really rather long. Like, double the usual standard, so take that how you will. In regards to a few things, I have read a number of reviews from people who aren't exactly fans of Elena's character and I'll warn you that there are aspects of this chapter that might make Elena seem a _little_ dislikeable, at least at the start. I'm trying to keep her in character, which I suppose doesn't help, but there you have it. This chapter focuses more on Elena and Damon's relationship, and I understand quite a few of you are reading this for the Damon/Stefan brotherly moments, but like I've said before this is a Delena fic and though I can't spoil anything for you guys at the moment, Damon and Elena's relationship is very crucial to this plot. Still, I hope you'll continue to read the story nonetheless, there will be more moments of bonding between Damon and Stefan to look forward to in later chapters and there is a _lot_ of general interaction with various characters in this chapter too so, _yay! _Anyway, with that said and done, I hope you enjoy this chapter and thank you all for supporting the story. :)_  
><em>

* * *

><p><strong>Cursed Disease<strong>

_Chapter 7_

_"Close Comfort"_

Bonnie sat patiently in the parlour, her hands twisted together so vigorously that she was distantly aware of the faint cramping sensations trailing up her arms.

No matter how hard she tried, she couldn't get the images of the last five minutes out of her head. Damon crumpled in on himself, coughing so hard it physically hurt and then, to Bonnie's absolute horror, the blood that had spurted from between his fingers, dribbling down his chin. Coughing up blood was a bad sign, vampire or not, and Bonnie knew that they were running out of time.

She could hear Stefan pacing upstairs, probably trying to call the mysterious C.C that Damon had just-so happened to have encountered in his past. Bonnie wanted to know more, but after seeing Damon like that, so weak he could barely move, coughing up _blood. _God, right then she didn't care who C.C was or why Damon even knew her. She just cared about Stefan contacting her, just so they could have some singular _good news _for once.

That's when Bonnie heard the sound of a running engine from outside and, along with it, the distant _crunch _of wheels on gravel. She wasn't sure how to feel about that noise. On one hand, it meant that her friends were here, and they needed all the support they could get. On the other, it meant _Elena _was here and, after seeing the state Damon was in, Bonnie couldn't help but feel concern for her best friend's wellbeing.

Instead of lingering on those thoughts, Bonnie chose to ignore Stefan's impatient pacing and instead moved to open the front door. By the time she was in the hallway, she could hear Stefan's voice echoing from upstairs. Evidently, Damon had been right, because it sounded very much like Stefan was leaving a message.

Clutching the doorknob tightly, Bonnie swung it open to find Caroline rushing after a very determined looking Elena.

Bonnie felt her heart contract as she laid eyes upon her best friend. Elena's brown curls were knotted where she had been toying with them, a nervous habit of which Bonnie had become familiar with over the years. Her eye make-up was smudged whether from tears or simply rubbing at her face, Bonnie wasn't sure, but the simple fact of the matter was this: Elena was a mess.

"Elena, wait up!" Caroline insisted as she quickly locked her car door as an afterthought with her keys. Elena, however, wasn't listening, instead she moved in a rush towards the front door only stopping when she saw Bonnie, wide eyed, in the archway.

Elena's tense expression immediately softened. "Bonnie," she breathed and, suddenly, Bonnie was being bundled into a tight hug. Bonnie hugged back, though she wasn't sure who needed the gesture more. Elena was tense under Bonnie's grip and, after she had pulled away, Bonnie could see the grim set to her features. "I can't believe Stefan had you keep this to yourself," Elena said, rather deliberately raising her voice. "Have you found anything, is Damon-" Elena drew off, unable to finish. Bonnie looked to Elena sympathetically. She had no idea how hard this must be for her friend. Out of the three, Elena was the one who cared for Damon the most. It didn't matter that they had separated themselves from each other; it was obvious to anyone with eyes how dependent the two were on each other.

"We found something," Bonnie said, trying to sound reassuring. She placed a hand against Elena's shoulder, trying to keep her still, though her gaze kept wandering towards the stairs. "We found a mention of the curse and we know someone who might be able to help reverse it."

Some of the tension in Elena's shoulders lifted as her gaze finally trailed back to Bonnie's. "Really?" Elena asked with unmasked relief.

Bonnie smiled. "Really."

Elena fell back into Bonnie's arms and, this time, Caroline joined in. "Bonnie, you didn't tell me about that!" Caroline said brightly, squeezing the three together closer still. Bonnie let out a small gasp, reminding Caroline that not all of the friends present were super resilient vampires. "Oh," Caroline said sheepishly, pulling away from the hug. "My bad."

Elena laughed, though it sounded strained. She glanced back towards the stairs. "I need to see him."

"Elena," Bonnie said warily. Elena had been half turned towards the stairs when she spoke and Bonnie winced slightly at the hard look her friend gave her. "Damon's not doing so well," Bonnie tried to explain as gently as she could. "Maybe you should give him some time to-"

But Elena was already shaking her head. Her eyes stared pleadingly into Bonnie's, begging her to see things from her perspective. "I should have been there when this started," Elena insisted, her hands clenched tightly at her sides. "I _need _to be there for him now."

"And we're not saying you shouldn't," Caroline said hastily, turning her attention to Bonnie. "But maybe you should just give him a little while with Stefan?" Caroline raised her eyebrows, silently asking Bonnie whether she'd said the right thing. Bonnie tried to give her a reassuring smile.

Elena blinked slowly, as if coming out of a daze. She rubbed her head. "Yeah, I mean... of course I get that but you _all _kept this from me." Elena's voice hitched slightly, forcing her to take a breath. "And now you're saying I should just _wait downstairs?_"

"He could be dangerous, Elena," Bonnie explained. "Stefan told me about vampires who have gone without blood for too long, the curse is putting Damon through those stages at a much faster rate." Bonnie swallowed, feeling the sting of bile at the back of her throat. "He told me about the later stages. Vampires who have gone too long without blood can't distinguish between human and animal or even vampire; they'll drink from anyone."

Bonnie waited for the cold clarity of the situation to reach Elena. Caroline's eyes were wide, her gaze tracing warily towards the stairs as though she was already anticipating some form of attack. Elena, however, stood completely rigid, her eyes shimmering with unshed tears. Finally, she shook her head. "That doesn't matter," she said firmly. "It can't matter, not when I abandoned him." Bonnie cried out uselessly as Elena turned towards the stairs. She would have stalked up them too, had it not been for Stefan's sudden appearance. The two very nearly collided with one another, their vampiric reflexes being the only thing keeping them from certain disaster.

Bonnie looked to Stefan uncertainly. His phone was still tightly clenched in his hand, but he met her gaze coolly all the same. Bonnie assumed he'd sent the message, though by the look in his eyes, she knew C.C hadn't answered.

Elena, however, snapped to attention the moment she got a good look at him. "You," she breathed and, with no further warning, her hand crossed his face with a loud, very satisfying _slap. _Stefan recoiled from the weight of it, his free hand coming up to unconsciously cradle his jaw.

With a sigh, Stefan's eyes trailed down to Elena whose body was still knotted with fury. "I suppose I deserved that," he muttered.

"I'm glad you understand," Elena bit out before moving to walk past him. Stefan, however, grabbed at her shoulder.

"Elena," he said plaintively. "That's not a good idea."

"That's funny, everyone's been telling me the same thing," Elena said sarcastically, her arms crossed firmly over her chest. "But you know what? I don't _care._" Before Stefan could open his mouth to speak, Elena simply continued: "I know you think it's dangerous, but that doesn't matter to me, Stefan, you know that." Elena's gaze softened, her voice turned pleading. "I wasn't there when this started… it's my _fault_ I wasn't there, so I have to be there for him now. I love him." Elena's eyes scanned her friends helplessly and Bonnie felt an immediate pang of guilt in her chest. She'd seen how much Damon was suffering and, suddenly, she realised just how much Elena needed to see it too. She would care for Damon even if it killed her. Bonnie very nearly stumbled backwards as the thought crossed her mind, but it was the truth. It was simply Elena's nature to care for someone no matter the cost. The only issue was, would _Damon _risk it? The answer was no, of course not, but in the state he was in he didn't really have a say in the matter. Though, to be honest, none of them did, because none of them loved Damon as stubbornly as Elena and no matter what they did, Elena would find her way to Damon's side.

Bonnie met Stefan's gaze from across the hall and then Caroline's. The three seemed to come to a silent, unanimous decision, because no one spoke a word as Elena continued her pursuit up the stairs. Mid-way up, Elena turned to face her friends with a smile. "Thank you," she whispered.

* * *

><p>Elena walked carefully down the hallway that led to Damon's room, her hands clasped tightly together. She didn't like this, the sense of foreboding in the air as she made her way through the eerily lit hall. It was true that Elena had only been a vampire for a little while and - in that time - no one had gone into great detail about the exact implications of being unable to feed or the stages of hunger, for that matter. She'd been hungry before herself, at first when she'd been sired to Damon and couldn't physically keep anything down and then, again, when she'd been infected with the Augustine virus. Both of those times, however, she'd been able to feed in the end; she'd never reached a stage where she no longer cared who she drank from, there had always been a certain blood type Elena had been drawn to.<p>

And now, Bonnie had told her what she had dreaded the most. Damon was reaching the final stages of vampiric hunger; he would soon feed on anything with a blood supply, regardless of species. Including her.

Elena had seen Damon at his worst, or, she supposed, what she had _thought _was his worst. She had seen him at times where she could hardly recognise him, moments when his vampiric nature shone out bright and true. He _enjoyed _to indulge, but there was also a part of him that wanted to be better; a part of him that resented what Katherine had done to warp him before he'd even been turned. She had ruled over his life for a hundred and fifty years without even needing to be present and Elena would never forgive her for that, not even in death.

Now Elena was afraid. Afraid because she didn't know how far gone Damon really was. She hadn't been there when this curse had set in, she hadn't been able to care for him and that stung more than anything else. Still, Elena wasn't a coward and she wasn't going to run just because Damon might not be in control of his actions. She would be there through thick and thin, she always was. Damon had seen the worst of her, seen her without her emotions, seen her lose her mind on at least three separate occasions but he never wavered. Now, it was Elena's turn to do the same.

With a sharp intake of breath, Elena entered Damon's bedroom.

And immediately felt her heart plummet into her stomach.

Damon was laid in bed, sheets gently tucked around him. His back was facing her, but Elena could see the tension in his shoulders, the pain in the way he held himself, curled up tightly as though he was afraid to move. Elena could smell the sickness in the air and it made her stomach knot furiously. She should have _been _there. Back when this had started; she should have been helping him.

Before she was fully aware of what she was doing, Elena had kicked her shoes off and made a move for the bed. With a gentleness brought on by her vampiric nature, she sat herself on the empty side of Damon's bed. Elena lifted her hand, meaning to touch him, though before she could, he let out a groan.

"Elena?" Damon always had a knack for sensing someone's presence before he had seen them and Elena was somewhat relieved to find that ability remained intact. What _did _bother her was the confusion in his tone.

"It's me," Elena said softly. This time she did touch him, but Damon flinched away as though she had burned him.

"Shouldn't be here," Damon murmured, though his voice crackled with every word. "Stefan wasn't s'posed to tell you…"

"Well he did," Elena said, her heart feeling slightly lighter after recognising the reason for his apprehension. Stefan hadn't _told _him that she was coming. Elena added that to the many things she would definitely be discussing with Stefan once Damon was cured. Because he _would _be cured. She tried to reach for him again, but Damon only made a groan of protest.

"Could hurt you," he said feebly. "N-not much time."

Elena shook her head. "No," she said. "Don't talk like that." And this time, she did touch him. He didn't flinch back, though if the rattling of his breath was any indication, Elena suspected it was more because he didn't have the energy to argue any more than actual acceptance. She could feel the sting of tears piercing at her eyes, but she wouldn't allow them to fall. Not when Damon needed her. Gently, Elena moved her hand over the fabric of Damon's shirt, slick and sticky with sweat. She continued until her arm was wrapped firmly around his front and, with the gentleness and care that her vampiric abilities provided, she wrapped herself around him, her chin pressed securely against his shoulder.

Damon let out a choked laugh, which quickly turned into a cough. Elena watched a grimace twist his lips but only held him tighter, her breath withdrawing steadily by his ear. "Elena Gilbert," he said. "Are you spooning me?"

Elena rolled her eyes before pressing her face into the crook of his neck. She breathed him in; smelling sweat and sickness, but also the unique things that made him smell of _Damon, _like the leather that clung to his skin regardless of whether he wore his jacket. She chose that scent and clung to it like a lifeline. "I'm not going to leave you," she whispered as her lips traced across his neck, along his jawline and, eventually, trailed towards his mouth.

"I could be dangerous, Elena," Damon said, though she felt his head turn towards her all the same, accepting the kiss as their lips finally met. Elena smiled; he tasted of salt and blood.

She breathed softly against his lips, watching his blue eyes flicker with traces of fever. "I didn't leave you when I was human and you were delirious from that wolf bite," she reminded, pressing her lips firmly against his mouth. She drew away again, feeling the tears threatening to spill. "I won't leave you now."

Damon's eyes were large and bewildered as he regarded her in front of him. Sometimes she wondered if he realised just how much she loved him; just how screwed the two of them really were. They loved so recklessly; they'd die for each other in a heartbeat. As long as she could be with him, as long as she could ease some of the pain she could see so very clearly reflected in his eyes… Elena couldn't care about anything else. Her lips trembled as the tears finally began to flow.

"I'm so sorry," she whispered. "I should have been here."

"Hey," Damon croaked, pressing his forehead firmly against Elena's. She could feel the sweat against his brow, the pulse of a headache in his skull. "It's okay. You're here now." His bright blue eyes sparkled for a moment before he closed them with a sigh. "I'm glad."

Elena laughed through a sob. "I'm glad too."

They lay like that for a long while, not particularly saying anything, but not needing to, either. Elena held Damon close, his head resting against her chest. She threaded her fingers through his dark hair in a calming gesture and listened to him breathe. It was coarse and ragged, but finally, he relaxed. Elena ignored the heat that radiated from Damon then, she ignored the sickness altogether and instead let him sink into unconsciousness curled next to her, secure in her arms. She could feel the lull of sleep calling her as well and, with a final kiss against his neck; the two were pulled into darkness.

* * *

><p>Stefan had known the moment Elena stepped foot in the house that nothing would stop her from seeing Damon. There was simply no force on Earth strong enough to keep her away from him and, though Stefan hated to admit it, he could understand why. Love was a powerful thing; it could make you forget anything else that mattered. For example, personal safety, which Elena had abandoned entirely the moment she had decided to enter the Salvatore Boarding House. Then again, as Stefan's eyes traced the parlour, he realised she wasn't the only one. Caroline was sat next to him on the sofa, all energy and eagerness as she allowed Bonnie to recount the last few hours' events, the discovery of the <em>Trickster's <em>grimoire and Damon's familiarity with one of the writers.

It was odd watching Caroline listen. For the most part, she acted as though there was nothing wrong at all, as she always did. Trouble never seemed to stop her from getting the job done. She was a cosmic force, always working hard to reach a goal. Now, Stefan supposed her goal was to help in any way she could, which of course started with knowing all the facts.

"So this C.C," Caroline said slowly, "she knew Damon?"

Bonnie shrugged. "I suppose she must have at some point."

"But she wants to kill vampires?" Caroline's brow creased with an expert frown. "Why does Damon know a vampire who helped a _witch _create a book that explains how to kill vampires?" Caroline paused, wrinkling her nose. "_Ugh. _My brain hurts."

Stefan felt both gazes turn to him and, suddenly, he realised what the two must have been thinking. "I'm not sure," he answered, much to their apparent disappointment. "Damon told me her full name was Constance Childes, but that's as far as I know." Stefan shrugged half-heartedly, meeting the gazes of the two teenagers steadily. "There are… holes in my knowledge of Damon's past. We weren't always together, in fact, we hardly ever _were._" Stefan hated to recount the whole ordeal, remembering how poorly the two had gotten on, how often the brothers had tormented each other, how they had reunited only to fall out again. Damon had always been stronger than Stefan was and Stefan had never doubted that strength. It was almost laughable how harshly the tables had been turned now.

Stefan let his shoulders slump in defeat. He leant forward, placing his forearms against his knees. "I didn't even know that my own brother had been locked up for five years being _experimented _on, so no, I don't know when or _why _he knew Constance." Stefan didn't hide the venom in his tone when he talked about the Augustine programme. He might have if it were only Bonnie he was talking to, but there was something about Caroline's presence that made him feel a lot more comfortable about talking freely. She never judged him, Hell, she'd become his _sober sponsor _ever since he and Elena had broken up. He was immeasurably grateful for her presence in his life.

He noticed Bonnie's uncomfortable look and Caroline's sympathetic one. They both knew about the Augustine experiments, though perhaps not in full detail. It had been Elena who had told Stefan most of the Augustine story in the end. Damon had not been eager to share for a second time, which was rather new to Stefan in his experience with his older brother. Damon, for the first time in a long time, hadn't wanted Stefan to feel guilty about a moment in his past that could have been altered had the two brothers actually cared about each other's lives at the time. It was a sore subject that neither Salvatore would talk about openly, but it had to be regarded in the end, which was why Elena had told him, or so he assumed.

"So," Bonnie said, and her tone suggested she wanted to change the subject, "did you get through to C.C-_Constance_?"

Stefan felt himself sag into the sofa. "Not exactly."

The whole phone call had been surreal for the younger Salvatore. He'd dialled in the number and, just as Damon had assumed, it had gone to voice mail. The strange thing about it was that the answering voice on the other end was definitely not Constance. For one, the voice had been male.

"_You have reached C.C. Leave a message if you feel it necessary."_

The voice had been bland, almost robotic, a tone Stefan nearly always attributed to someone who had been compelled. If Constance wanted her identity kept a secret, she was definitely going about it in an efficient way. As Stefan recounted these events to both Bonnie and Caroline, the two teenagers exchanged wary looks.

"It's definitely weird," Bonnie said after a moment's pause. She glanced down at the grimoires that had been salvaged from Damon's room apprehensively. "She never uses her full name, she must only tell people she trusts." Bonnie drew off with a sigh. "I found mentions of C.C, _just _the initials, in a few of the other grimoires I took from Jonas and… even a Bennett one."

Stefan's mouth very nearly fell open in surprise. Bonnie must have sensed his confusion, for she immediately continued: "I thought the name had sounded familiar, some piece of the puzzle that I hadn't put together yet... she was mentioned, just her initials, signed by a spell I used once before." Bonnie gave Stefan a meaningful look. "It was the one I used to bind John's life to Elena's."

This time, Stefan's mouth _did _fall open. "What?" he asked flatly.

Bonnie nodded solemnly, but it was Caroline who piped up and said, "The story about the mother who tied her life to her child, well, Bonnie thinks that C.C or uh, _Constance_, was there when the spell was performed."

"But why?" Stefan asked numbly.

Bonnie shrugged. "We're not sure, it doesn't make much sense."

"You can say that again," Caroline scoffed. "She writes how-to guides on killing _vampires, _dabbling in a few life-saving spells here and there doesn't sound like her M.O."

"But the mother and daughter used for the spell… they were human," Stefan said faintly, his eyes trailing towards Bonnie.

Bonnie nodded guardedly. "Well, yes."

"So maybe she's interested in sustaining human life?" Stefan thought out loud. "I mean… it could be possible, right?"

Bonnie didn't look certain and, one glance at Caroline only doubled the apprehension in the room. Caroline sighed. "Well, it doesn't matter, anyway. Maybe you can ask her when she gets here."

"_If _she gets here," Stefan muttered.

"She will," Bonnie said. "If she and Damon know each other, if they've been communicating, then she's got to have reason to care about him."

"We don't know anything about her," Stefan reminded doubtfully.

"Well, that doesn't matter," Caroline said, taking Stefan's arm in that forward way she did; a gesture without words that reassured him to the core. "Damon _does _know her and he said she'd help, so she will." Caroline nodded to herself before her eyes trailed past Stefan and into the hallway. "Speaking of… how long has Elena been up there?"

Stefan felt the cold clutch of dread re-emerge from his chest. He couldn't believe he had left it this long without checking in on them. Closing his eyes, he focused his senses towards Damon's room, hoping to catch the remains of a conversion, _anything _to prove that everything was okay up there.

Caroline must have been doing the same thing, for she frowned suddenly. "It's quiet…"

"Good quiet or bad quiet?" Bonnie asked.

Stefan could hear Elena's breathing, slow and steady. His fears lifted immediately. She wasn't in danger, in fact, the very opposite. She seemed to be asleep. Then Stefan caught another sound that very nearly stopped him dead in his tracks. _Damon_'_s_ breathing was calm; still slightly ragged from the strain that had been put on his lungs, but just as relaxed as Stefan had heard when he'd been injected with vervain.

Caroline closed her eyes with relief. "They're both asleep."

"_Really?_" Bonnie asked, shocked.

Stefan shook his head in disbelief.

Caroline looked from Stefan to Bonnie with a dubious glare. "Why is that such a shock to you both?"

Stefan laughed. It was short and strained, but it was a laugh all the same. He rubbed his face with sheer incredulity. "Because, Damon hasn't been able to sleep since this curse first took effect."

* * *

><p>Stefan lingered in the doorway to Damon's bedroom for several minutes, simply drinking in the sight before him.<p>

Elena had bundled herself under the sheets and taken Damon along with her. She was wrapped around him, holding his head steadily against her chest, her chin fitted neatly by his ear. The two were completely relaxed with each other's presence and, there was no denying it, Damon was well and truly asleep.

Stefan wasn't sure how to feel about it. Relief seemed to encompass more or less any other emotion he might have had about the situation. He didn't even have it in him to be remotely jealous about the two; not when Elena had gotten him to _sleep. _Damon's body language still suggested the pain that lingered in his lungs and muscles, but apart from that, he was at ease, completely comfortable fitted within Elena's arms.

Stefan shook his head in bemusement. He supposed that was one thing he couldn't give his brother. A close comfort, a means of relaxing him not just physically but mentally as well. Elena was the best thing that had happened to Damon's life in a long time and that just continued to stay true, even now when he was sick and incapacitated.

Without another word, Stefan silently closed the door and left down the hallway. There was a weight in his stomach, but it wasn't uncomfortable. He knew that so much could still go wrong; he didn't know if Constance would receive his message or even care, he didn't know how badly Damon might regress even in the next hour; he couldn't even put into words his mixed feelings on having Elena both being in the singularly best and worst position at Damon's bedside… but still, Stefan didn't want to linger on those thoughts, not right now. What mattered was that Damon was finally getting some rest and, for the first time since this curse had started, they had some genuinely good news. Constance had been informed of the situation; now only time would tell whether she cared enough to visit.

When Stefan finally re-emerged in the parlour, he noticed that the sun must have gone down some hours ago. A steady flood of moonlight was the only illumination giving way to Caroline and Bonnie's features as they talked amongst themselves. They stopped when they noticed Stefan's presence.

"Caroline, you can stay the night if you want," Stefan said, glancing at the night sky. "We've got plenty of room."

"I'll bunk with Bonnie," Caroline said happily, her tone as easy as ever. She nudged Bonnie playfully, eliciting a small smile from the young anchor. "It'll be like a sleepover, you haven't _felt_ luxury until you've tried out one of their beds!" Caroline's eyes widened at Stefan's bemused expression. "Not to say that I've ever, uh, done that before, because I haven't!"

Stefan couldn't help but smile. Caroline's energy was infectious, even in the darkest of times. "Go ahead, pick a room."

Caroline shot to her feet immediately. "Awesome!"

Bonnie stood up along with her, though as she passed Stefan, she stopped, chewing her bottom lip nervously. "Is everything okay… upstairs?"

Stefan exhaled slowly. "They're both asleep."

Bonnie nodded her head distractedly. "Will Elena be okay, with Damon I mean?"

"I'll keep checking in," Stefan affirmed. "But for now, she's doing the best thing she can for him."

Bonnie smiled. "I'm glad that he's able to sleep. He didn't look good earlier."

Stefan knew that she was referring to the last time she'd seen Damon, coughing up blood and barely able to remain sat up without Stefan's assistance. He sighed. "I don't know how much time we have left," Stefan said, trying not to let his voice quake. "For now, we just have to hope that Constance will listen to her messages."

With that Bonnie nodded and left after Caroline, calling for her in a hushed whisper, very much aware of the sleeping vampires only a floor above them.

* * *

><p>Elena dreamt that she was falling. It was strange, one minute she had been content and relaxed, holding Damon close to her chest and the next… only darkness. A sharp, uncomfortable sensation rocketed through her stomach as the darkness closed in around her. She wanted to scream, wanted to shout out, but no words were forthcoming. All she could do was fall.<p>

Before Elena knew what had happened, she found herself standing upright and steady on the front lawn of a very extravagant, very _familiar _house. Her legs trembled beneath her and, for a moment, she thought she might fall. Then, everything seemed to right itself. She stood in a daze underneath a sudden dazzling sunlight. She lifted a hand to her face, squinting, and glanced up at the house before her.

The front porch of the white wash abode stood on sturdy pillars, carved with great indented lines. The front door was intimidatingly large. Elena bit back a gasp of surprise as she surveyed her surroundings. Standing at the base of the porch was a fully catered horse and carriage; a driver was sitting in the front seat, reins in his hands and a look of placid contentment on his face. A look Elena fully recognised as the effects of lingering compulsion.

That's when it seemed to click together. She was inside Damon's head; witnessing the very dream he was having right next to her. Elena felt a pang of guilt, she hadn't meant to fall into Damon's dreams like this, it was a full invasion of privacy for her to even _be _here, but at the same time, she couldn't seem to pull herself free. Not that she knew _how _anyway.

Everything about the dream seemed real, from the smell of fresh-cut grass in the air, to the bustling sounds of a thriving town in the distance. Elena had never done this before, never stood on the side-lines of someone else's dream. She didn't even think she _could. _The ability alone seemed to be withheld only for more experienced vampires.

Elena stood rooted to the spot, glancing from the carriage to the driver and then, finally, towards the front door of the house. She didn't know how, but she could tell this scene was about to burst into life.

And she was right.

Not a second later the door was thrown open and Damon Salvatore stood in the doorway. But this wasn't a Damon Elena recognised. For one, his dark hair was lightly curled around the edges, his clothes were smart, befitting a separate century altogether and his eyes… there was no sarcasm in those blue orbs, no air of superiority of any kind. Nothing at all of the Damon Salvatore Elena knew. In fact, he looked tired, as though he had utterly given up. That was when Elena spotted the cases in Damon's hands and very smoothly, it all seemed to piece together.

She remembered Stefan telling her about this moment what felt like an eternity ago. How Stefan had fallen off the rails shortly after the brothers' transformation into vampires and then, later, how he had met Lexi. Damon had still resented Stefan for forcing him to turn then and, along with other factors - such as Stefan's sloppiness with his kills - Damon decided to leave. And this was _that_ moment, Elena realised. This was Damon leaving.

But why was he _dreaming _about this? She supposed she had no right to question Damon's unconscious mind. She _was_ of course trespassing on something that was entirely private. Still, Elena couldn't help but wonder why these memories were being dredged back up into Damon's fever-induced dreams.

Damon was walking down the stairs now, throwing the cases into the carriage with a vampiric grace. Elena moved unconsciously into the shadows of the old house. She knew she couldn't let herself be seen, though she couldn't tear her gaze from the scene unfolding before her, either. Elena had never seen what Damon had been like before, back in 1864. Sure, she'd heard stories, but this was a different experience entirely. This had been a time where the roles had been reversed, Elena realised. When Stefan had been recklessly killing and Damon had been trying to cover it up, trying to _preserve _the human life knowing that the council could easily discover them if they didn't.

The vision before Elena blurred and suddenly she found herself looking at a different scene altogether. She was standing on a dirt road with towers of intimidatingly tall trees encompassing her on both sides. Without thinking, Elena took a step to the closest tree, grabbing onto it for support. This was a road leading out of Mystic Falls, still very much in the same era as the previous scene. Elena wasn't entirely sure how she knew that, but she did.

The road was shadowed by the looming trees, cutting out the moon's comforting rays and with the lack of any other presence, Elena felt the first inklings of fear creep up on her. But that was stupid, wasn't it? She was inside Damon's head. Nothing could hurt her here. In fact, Elena had been in dreams of her own that Damon had been able to control completely. If something _did _happen, what was stopping her from changing the course of events as they continued?

But Elena didn't know how to do that. She barely knew how she was in Damon's head right then. So, when a bush rustled on the other side of the road it took everything in Elena's power to bite back a startled scream.

On the other side of the dirt road came the figure of someone young and thin. Elena immediately knew that the person was female by the length of their hair and the way that they carried themselves. Still… there was something _alarming _about her all the same.

The girl left the trees behind her with a swift coolness that didn't match her exterior one bit. Her hair was as dark as midnight and fell in long stiff ringlets all the way down to the centre of her back. Her skin was pale, almost translucent and her face was beautiful. But not a _human _beauty. Her lips were plump and rosy, her nose sat like a button on a child's china doll and her eyes… they were what scared Elena the most. They were dark and fathomless pits on an otherwise innocent and dainty face. So dark, that Elena couldn't tell where her iris ended and her pupils began. She was suddenly reminded of horror movies revolving around possessed dolls. This was the face of a beautiful girl with a demon trapped just beneath the skin.

That's when Elena heard another noise. The sound of hooves clopping roughly against dirt. Instinctively, Elena turned towards the noise only to be faced with the same carriage she had seen before. The one Damon had left Mystic Falls inside. It was the strangest thing. The china girl stood in the dead centre of the road, her endless black eyes staring out at the carriage as it approached. Then, very suddenly, she held out her hand.

Abruptly, the carriage stopped. Whether it was the horses' decision or the driver's was a mystery to Elena, but both sets of eyes stared at the china girl with equal measures of blind enchantment.

Could animals _be _compelled? Elena wondered. It certainly looked like the horse had. It stood as still as a statue, as did the driver, both of them never releasing their gazes from the young stranger.

And she _was _young, maybe only Elena's age.

Then, Damon appeared.

"What happ-" he began to say before the words died on his tongue. The girl didn't have the same effect on him, of course, though Damon did freeze, entirely perplexed by her presence.

"Miss?" Damon's tone was calm. It hurt Elena's heart to hear him speak with such vulnerability. He was honestly concerned for this strange young thing that had appeared in the centre of a deserted road. And why shouldn't he be? Everything about the girl screamed innocent and hurt. Even her clothes. Elena knew very little about the eighteen hundreds, but she assumed wearing a floor length white night gown on a nightly outing wasn't a fine example of proper mental health.

"Miss, are you alright?" Damon asked again. He had inched closer to the girl now, one of his hands outstretched, as if to reach out to her.

The girl wasn't looking at him. Her gaze lingered somewhere over his right shoulder. Even when she opened her mouth to speak, she didn't break her gaze. "Oh Sir, I am far from alright." Her voice sent an uncontrollable shudder down Elena's spine. It was pure, maintaining a strong English accent. Elena found herself wanting to move closer to the girl despite knowing all of this was nothing but a memory cooked up from Damon's past.

Her voice seemed to have the same effect on Damon, for he was walking closer to her even as he spoke. "Are you lost? Do you need assistance?"

The girl finally broke her gaze as her large, fathomless eyes snapped onto Damon. "A great tragedy has happened," she said slowly. Her black eyes bored deep into Damon's, effectively stopping him in his stride. She lifted one of her slender hands and began to idly play with a curl of her dark hair.

"Where?" Damon's voice was soft and short, though his shock went unmasked. As did Elena's.

The girl smiled brightly, showing devilishly white teeth. "Why, Mystic Falls, of course." She took a large intake of breath before her smile faltered and her gaze drew away from Damon. She looked distantly back the way Damon's carriage had come. "All those vampires that burned… such a shame."

Elena heard Damon's sharp intake of breath, perfectly matched by her own. The china faced girl smiled grimly at Damon, her black eyes flickering with an emotion Elena couldn't place. "Of course," the girl continued, and this time her voice was stronger, "that's not entirely the case, is it Mr Salvatore?"

"How did you-"

"I know a lot of things," the girl interrupted Damon's question blandly. Her head cocked to one side with childish curiosity. "I wonder… would you know anything of the spell that was cast?"

Damon's mouth fell open, but no words willed from his mouth. Elena couldn't blame him. Despite the girl's innocent exterior, a flame burned deeply at her core. Something terrifying lived within her, something itching to be set free.

Finally, Damon said, "I do not know what you are talking about."

The girl grinned, and this time, two brilliantly sharp canines gleamed in the dying light of the sun. "Wrong answer, Mr Salvatore."

Elena woke with a start, blood pounding in her ears as she stared out blindly into the darkness of Damon's bedroom. Relief flooded her immediately. She was _out. _No longer bound in that God awful dream or _nightmare? _It was hard to tell, the foundations of the dream that had held her were already slipping away, leaving only fragments. Like the girl.

With a start, Elena turned to Damon's side of the bed. If she had been thrown from the dream, if she had been thrown out of _Damon's head, _then he must be awake as well. With a numbness buzzing inside of her, she reached out for him, only to grab at thin air instead. Panic rose inside her chest, a real, concrete panic, as she stared uncomprehendingly at the empty bed. Damon was _gone. _How could he be gone? Where would he go?

Then, she heard it.

Heavy, laboured breathing in an otherwise silent room. Elena felt her eyes adjust to the darkness as she stared unblinkingly outwards. A silhouette of a person stood at the foot of the bed, staring at her.

For a horrible, gut wrenching moment, Elena thought the shape was that of the girl in Damon's head, though she quickly righted herself. This person wasn't female, but male. This person didn't have empty, black eyes, but instead a very familiar blue. They glowed eerily in the dark, fever stricken and glittering.

Elena's stomach twisted.

"_Damon?_"

* * *

><p>Bonnie and Caroline had picked a room not too far from Damon's. Caroline insisted she'd be able to hear any changes from within the bedroom from anywhere inside the house, but Bonnie just wanted to make sure. She knew Stefan had promised he'd keep an eye on both Elena and Damon, but she still didn't like it. After what Stefan had told her about vampiric hunger, Elena's position right now couldn't have been more dangerous.<p>

Bonnie glanced up when the bedroom door creaked open to reveal Caroline, dressed in a tank top and pyjama shorts. Her hair was loose flowing across her shoulders and bounced as she moved over to the bed, sinking firmly into the mattress. "Aren't you going to get changed?" she asked, though her eyes immediately traced down to the grimoires that Bonnie had taken upstairs with her, including the Trickster's.

Bonnie shook her head. "I won't be able to sleep, not with all that's going on."

"Elena will be okay," Caroline said, though her tone didn't sound all that certain. Bonnie glanced at her warily. Caroline only shrugged. "Look, there's only one Damon but there are three vampires, plus you're pretty bad ass yourself." Bonnie rolled her eyes, though Caroline only continued, "My point is, we out number him, if he does go off the rails, we'll handle it. Elena too." Caroline squeezed Bonnie's shoulder reassuringly as she turned her attention back towards the Trickster's grimoire.

Bonnie felt the mattress dip as Caroline moved her weight over her shoulder. Bonnie could feel her friend's eyes tracing the words on the grimoire, more specifically, the page that she had been reading for what felt like the millionth time that evening.

"That's the mention of the curse?" Caroline asked, her finger diving over Bonnie's shoulder to point at it. "All of, what, _two _lines?"

"It's brief, but it's all we've got," Bonnie said heavily, trailing her fingers across the weathered page.

"_Beware those who madden the Trickster,_" Caroline read aloud before wrinkling her nose. "How could Damon have _maddened _this crazy witch if he never even met them?"

Bonnie shrugged. "I don't know, but from what I've learnt about witch craft, curses aren't all about one single person. Like cursed objects." Bonnie reached over and grabbed for one of the decorative pillows lying on the bedspread. She pointed at it purposefully. "Say this object was cursed."

Caroline glanced at her awkwardly. "A throw pillow?"

Bonnie rolled her eyes. "Just go with it."

Caroline lifted her arms up in surrender. "Alright, alright, continue."

Bonnie smiled. "Okay, so say this object was cursed so that any time someone touched it, they'd get sick." Bonnie placed the pillow on her lap. "It wouldn't matter who touched the pillow, if the curse was set for a certain species or characteristic or maybe even anyone at all, it would take effect."

Caroline nodded unsurely. "But Damon didn't touch any tacky pillows."

Bonnie threw the pillow at Caroline half-heartedly, who caught it with a good-natured smile. "I know, but curses don't have to be attached to objects like _tacky throw pillows. _This curse has dark magic written all over it… it could be air borne, it could be transmitted through the touch of someone who has already been cursed. It could be a lot more complicated than that." Bonnie's brow furrowed as she drew the Trickster's grimoire into her hands once again. "The Trickster, whoever they were, was a very powerful witch or warlock. If something Damon has done triggered it somehow, then it's going to be very difficult to undo the damage."

"But we can, right?" Caroline asked with wide eyes. "There's always a way out of these things, isn't there? A balance or whatever?"

Bonnie shrugged. "Usually," she agreed solemnly as her fingers traced over the leather cover. "This book is filled with different ways of poisoning vampires, of harming them in any way, but none of them mention any cures or anti-spells."

Caroline opened her mouth to comment, but Bonnie lifted a hand up to stop her. She smiled at her warily. "But, there _was_ a whole double-page spread about the properties of werewolf venom. This book is so insanely detailed, there's no doubt in my mind that this witch knew exactly what the cure was."

Caroline shook her head. "Klaus's blood? How can you be sure?"

"I can't," Bonnie said. "But I think the Trickster purposefully left out any mentions of cures, in case the book fell into the hands of a witch who might want to help vampires instead of harm them." Bonnie smiled simply. "Like me."

Caroline laughed, though she still seemed uncertain. "I suppose." Her blue eyes moved back to the open grimoire and continued to scan the page. After a while, she frowned again. "What does this even mean, _'thy corse will reject its essence'?" _

Bonnie let out a shallow sigh. "'Corse' is an old English word for 'corpse,' which is what a vampire is. A living corpse." She raised her brows towards her friend. "No offence."

Caroline rolled her eyes. "None taken." She looked at Bonnie pointedly. "And the rejecting essence bit?"

Bonnie chewed her lip thoughtfully. "Essence is like… like what someone is made up of. What they need to survive. A vampire's essence is blood, so it's basically saying the corpse or the vampire's _body _will reject any form of blood, what it needs most to survive."

Caroline shook her head, closing her eyes with a rare look of frustration. "But… if Stefan is right and Damon goes rabid, what will happen when he tries to drink from someone?"

Bonnie opened her mouth to answer, but faltered. What _would _happen? She assumed he'd reject that blood as well, no matter _how _hungry he was, but would it be immediate? Would he be unable to stomach any blood at all… or would he rip someone's head off before they found out? Bonnie was about to speak when she heard a _thump _from somewhere outside.

Caroline's head cocked in response, her eyes closed in full concentration. She opened them immediately. "That came from Damon's room."

* * *

><p>Elena stood immediately from the bed, raising her hands in a half-surrender. Damon was staring at her in an unsettling manner, as though he didn't even recognise her. Elena felt a sinking pit in her stomach. This went beyond the time he had mistaken her for Katherine; in fact, he didn't seem to know her at all. Elena felt the air suck out of her lungs as he took a step towards her.<p>

Damon's dark hair was plastered to his face, but through it she could see his eyes, bloodshot and burning. The delicate skin below his eyes was writhing and pulsing with black veins and, as he took another step forward, Elena could see the tips of his canines, now deadly fangs, poking out from his upper lip.

Elena flinched as she bumped into the wall behind her. Stefan had warned her that this would happen, but she hadn't cared. She could fix this. She _would _fix this.

"Damon," she said again, speaking his name as clearly as she could muster. Damon didn't seem to hear her, because suddenly his body blurred and he was stood directly in front of her. His pulsing eyes regarded her lazily before focusing on the crook of her neck. Elena took in a deep breath, readying herself to run if she needed to, though even now she didn't want to abandon him. "Damon it's Elena. Damon, listen to me, you're sick, you're not thinking clearly." Damon made a noise at the back of his throat. Elena felt a shudder jolt up her spine; it sounded suspiciously like a growl.

Elena made a move to touch him, to try and reason with him, to remind his fever stricken, hungered mind that he didn't want to do this. "You won't hurt me," she said as she lifted her hand. The moment she tried, however, Damon made a grab for her, successfully capturing her right wrist in his grip. Elena exhaled sharply, but other than that, didn't make a move against him. His grip wasn't tight, though she knew that wasn't intentional, instead it seemed as though he couldn't physically hold her any harder. With a sinking in her chest, Elena realised he was too weak, the sickness the curse had given him had somehow depleted his vampiric strength.

Finding courage with this revelation, Elena looked Damon in the eyes. "Damon, please," she whispered. "I don't want to hurt you."

This seemed to enrage him, or maybe he simply couldn't hold back any longer. He made a move towards her neck at a speed Elena almost couldn't keep up with. He opened his mouth, snapping for her exposed flesh with his razor sharp fangs. Elena, however, was faster. She managed to sidestep Damon's attack, easily breaking the hold on her wrist while he was preoccupied with feeding. Instead of allowing him to break skin, she grabbed both sides of his head with each of her hands, effectively holding him in place.

Damon looked ferocious in the dim light. His eyes were bright with hunger, completely red and driven only by vampiric impulse. He bared his teeth at her, trying to move towards her neck, but Elena found it remarkably easy to hold him steady. She could feel the heat radiating from his head, and the sticky sensation of sweat that was matted into his hair. She felt guilty, even as she held him back as he unsuccessfully tried to rip her throat out. Sounding more animal than human, he let out a furious growl and, this time, pushed one of his arms out, resting it against Elena's chest, forcing her further against the wall.

"Damon," Elena pleaded, knowing that this would have to end one way or another. "Damon, please, listen to me, it's the hunger okay? You don't want to do this." Elena felt tears pierce her eyes as Damon only pushed himself further against her. She pushed his head away again, but the hunger was winning out, he was growing stronger now, despite the sickness that ravaged him. She couldn't hold him back forever.

"Damon, if you don't snap out of this-" Elena's grip very nearly slipped and Damon used that advantage as an opportunity to get closer. He lashed out, using his other arm to grab her shoulder, pinning her to the wall as he made a move to bite her neck.

Luckily, Elena saw it coming and, before he could hurt her she grabbed his head once again as firmly as she could. She caught a glimpse of his deranged, hungry eyes before biting back a sob. "I'm sorry," she whispered and, as cleanly as possible, she snapped his neck.


	8. Comatose

_A/N: _Sorry this chapter is up a little later than usual, life got in the way as it always does. Anyway, thank you so much for the reviews, I couldn't help but get a chuckle out of some of your reactions who were none too pleased about Elena's actions in the last chapter. x) Elena might seem quite weepy in this chapter, but I'm sure if you could put yourself in her shoes, you'd know why - especially considering she's still a pretty new vampire with very little hold on the whole 'heightened emotions' thing. Aaanyway, with that said and done I hope you enjoy this chapter! :)

* * *

><p><strong>Cursed Disease<strong>

_Chapter 8_

_"Comatose"_

Stefan knew something was wrong the minute he heard a distant _thump_ from downstairs. He didn't think on the matter, he only acted.

Within seconds, Stefan was stood in the hallway to Damon's room, tracing through the darkness, his eyes bright with concern. He was so focused on his objective that he very nearly missed Caroline and Bonnie coming from the opposite end of the hallway. Bonnie looked wary in the dark, whereas Caroline was a force to be reckoned with. She stormed her way towards Damon's bedroom, very nearly tearing the door from its hinges in an attempt to open it.

Stefan got to her just in time, grabbing her shoulder lightly, but putting just enough strength into the gesture to pull her away.

Caroline whirled on him instantly, her bright eyes softened when she realised who it was. "Oh," she whispered, folding her arms. "It's you."

"We heard something from inside," Bonnie said from behind Caroline, her eyes looked haunted. "Like someone had fallen."

Stefan nodded stiffly. "I heard it too." He made a swooping gesture with his arm. "Get behind me, both of you, just in case."

Caroline scoffed. "I'm staying right next to you, thanks."

Stefan didn't have time to argue, though he felt his jaw clench instinctively. "Fine," he muttered before making a grab for the door knob. "But don't make a move, don't go inside until I tell you it's safe."

Caroline nodded grudgingly and Bonnie stood behind the both of them, having no supernatural power at her disposal to protect herself. Stefan twisted the handle and, very gently, he pushed open the door.

What he saw hadn't been what he had expected.

Elena was knelt over Damon who was crumpled on the floor, apparently unconscious. One of Elena's hands was over her mouth, whilst the other gently cradled Damon's head to her chest. She stroked back his dark hair as fresh tears began to spill down her cheeks.

"Oh my God, Elena what happened?" Caroline asked as she pushed past Stefan, immediately followed by Bonnie. The two girls towered over Elena, holding her shoulders steady as she tried to breathe past the sobs that rocked her body.

Stefan was the only one to really sense the weight of the situation. Damon wasn't just unconscious, that much was obvious by the way his head lay slack, even under Elena's grip. He immediately walked to his brother's side, his eyes wide with disbelief. "Elena, what did he do?" It was all Stefan could think to ask. Elena wouldn't have gone this far, _wouldn't _have gone to these lengths unless her life had been in severe danger.

Elena shook her head before slowly peeling her hand away from her face. Her lips trembled. "H-he uh, he tried to drink from me."

Caroline instantly crouched at Elena's side, studying her neck and shoulders for any visible bite marks, or at least trails of blood where they once might have been. Stefan watched as Caroline looked up at him, shaking her head once she found no traces. Stefan let his shoulders relax marginally.

Elena's eyes scrunched closed as more tears spilled down her cheeks. "Oh God, I broke his neck, I had to… he was weak but he was getting stronger, I couldn't hold him back, he wouldn't _stop _and I just-" Elena broke off with a gasp. She closed her eyes tightly as she held Damon closer, completely ignoring her friends' presence at her sides.

"No one blames you," Bonnie said quietly, wrapping her arm around Elena's back. "We knew this might happen. You did the best thing you could."

"Yeah, it's not like it's permanent," Caroline added as brightly as she could, but even she couldn't seem to will her usual nature upon the situation. Stefan couldn't blame her; the whole room had turned bleak with negativity.

"We need to get him back onto the bed," Stefan said, trying to take control of the situation. He hated the way Elena wouldn't meet his eye, or how horrified the two girls looked as they tried to console their friend. They had all known this was a very real possibility, that it had been a matter of time before Damon snapped… but none of them had been prepared. None of them had really and truly expected for Damon to attack Elena, not _her_ of all people.

Elena wiped away the excess of her tears. Stefan had once taught her about controlling negative emotions as a vampire, that for everything you didn't want to feel, you replaced with something you did, a distraction. With the determined set to Elena's features, he knew she'd picked an emotion, or rather, a task. Until Damon regained consciousness, she'd do everything in her power to remain in control of her emotions, to help Damon in any way she could. To focus on anything other than the horrible act that she had just committed to someone she loved dearly.

Elena was already holding Damon's shoulders, so, with Stefan's help the two managed to lift and settle Damon back on the bed. He looked still, as though he were only sleeping and not healing from a fatal wound. His skin was pale, his mouth slightly agape. Elena unconsciously brushed Damon's bangs out of his face for him before gently tucking the sheets over his chest. Stefan felt his heart tighten for her. This wasn't fair; she'd faced too much in the last month alone, they all had.

Steadily, Stefan cleared his throat. "We have to be prepared for him to wake in the same state. Breaking his neck won't take him out for long."

Elena nodded rigidly. "What are you thinking?"

Stefan looked at her grimly. He really didn't want her involved in this. Stefan had seen the worst of his brother countless times, but to allow Elena to see that as well? Though Elena had seen Damon at times he was unrecognisable, for instance, now, Stefan didn't want to involve her. Though, if the look she was giving him now was any indication, he realised he really didn't have much of a choice. Stefan felt his shoulders heave in defeat. "Do you remember the medieval device we found, the one that was used on Katherine in eighteen sixty four?"

Elena's eyes glazed over for a moment before she snapped back to the present. "The muzzle? I gave it back to you, didn't I?"

Stefan nodded. "It's in the basement-"

"I'll get it," Elena said immediately. Stefan knew she wanted to busy herself with any distraction she could.

"I'll go with you," Bonnie said, giving Stefan a sympathetic look that translated to _take care of your brother, I'll take care of her._

Stefan felt his chest ease enough for him to take an easy breath. "Good idea. It's in a box, first door to your left, you shouldn't miss it."

"Wait, wait, wait, we're _muzzling _him?" Caroline asked in disgust.

"It's precaution," Stefan said darkly. "We can't be too careful, if Damon gets a taste of any of our blood he won't be able to stop, it's best he never gets that chance."

Bonnie and Elena nodded before leaving the room. Caroline folded her arms around her chest distractedly. Stefan could tell that the whole situation didn't sit well with her; he could also see that she couldn't seem to take her eyes from Damon. With a jolt, Stefan realised this was the first time she'd seen Damon in this state. And to add insult to injury, Damon was practically dead along with his other visible symptoms. Stefan bit back a growl. He was stupid; he should have never let either of the girls into the room.

"Caroline," Stefan said, "there is something you can do for me, too."

Caroline looked to him, almost gratefully. He could tell she wanted a distraction just as much as everyone else. "What do you need?"

"Do you think you could call your mom and ask if we can borrow something?"

Caroline frowned. "What?"

Stefan swallowed. "Handcuffs."

* * *

><p>When Elena and Bonnie returned with the muzzle, Caroline was gone. Elena had insisted on holding the box. She <em>needed <em>to keep busy, to stay in control of the situation. If she let herself falter, even for a second, she'd let the whole horrible ordeal back into her head. She'd see Damon's unresponsive gaze as he tried to bite her neck without a word, like she was nothing but a stranger. A food source on legs.

Elena cleared her throat as she entered. "Where's Caroline?"

Stefan glanced up to her in surprise. She supposed he'd suspected she'd be longer, but Elena didn't want to linger. She wanted to keep going no matter what. "She's gone to collect some handcuffs from the Sheriff."

Elena noticed Bonnie's eyes widen next to her. "Handcuffs? You think that'll hold him?"

Stefan glanced towards Damon, still and pale as ever. "Normally, no. It wouldn't even slow him down. But now? He's weak; he doesn't have the energy to waste."

Elena felt herself nodding along. "It's true; at first I could hold him back easily, but he was getting stronger before I-" she cut herself off.

"The scent of your blood," Stefan said before giving her an apologetic look. "You were too close to him, his instincts took over, he would have burned his strength out though," Stefan cast his gaze to the floor, "eventually."

Elena sucked in a breath as she looked at Damon, so still, so peaceful. She really could have believed he was just sleeping, but the truth was so much worse. Right now he was in a state of living death, practically comatose as his body sought to fix the fatal break to his neck that _she _had inflicted. Elena stifled a shudder. "So, I can't be near him?"

Stefan sighed. "In the same room, yes, but lying close to him, though it was a good idea at the time, his body has taken a violent turn into rabid territory." Stefan paused, looking utterly exhausted. "It's best to keep your distance until we know his state."

Elena noticed that Bonnie hadn't taken her gaze from Damon the whole time they had been talking. She looked worried, but mostly tired. "Did he just wake up like this or was it Elena being too close that triggered it?" Bonnie directed her question towards Stefan, but Elena could feel her friend's gaze linger on her for more than an instant.

The question, however, awakened something that Elena had previously forced to the back of her mind. "Wait," she said. "Something did trigger it."

Stefan looked to her sceptically, but didn't say anything other than spur her to continue. Elena felt her hands clench at her sides. "I was in his head," she said numbly. "I don't know how it was possible, but I got inside his dreams."

Elena saw Stefan visibly stiffen. His voice was rough when he replied, "It's uncommon for a new vampire, but it happens."

"How?" Elena demanded. "I didn't even know what I was doing. I thought you had to be taught how to do something like that."

Stefan shook his head. "The mind is… a complicated place. Sometimes all it takes is the sheer force of will to break down someone else's barrier." He looked at her pointedly. "Their dreams."

"You're saying Elena _wanted _to get in his head?" Bonnie asked in disbelief. Elena couldn't help but agree, she hadn't been thinking of anything and she most certainly hadn't wanted to invade Damon's private thoughts.

"Not exactly," Stefan said. "Sometimes when two people have a strong bond, their minds are more… compatible than others." Elena felt a twinge of guilt; she knew this was a sore subject for Stefan. "When those two people are close, they might share dreams." Stefan shrugged. "Humans do it too, sometimes. Like twins."

"Twin telepathy." Bonnie laughed faintly. "Huh."

Elena caught Stefan looking at her, studying her expression with a fixed look of his own. "Elena, what did you see?"

Elena felt her stomach twist. "A girl," she said simply, "a girl with dead eyes."

Elena recounted the whole story to both Bonnie and Stefan; she explained how she remembered Stefan telling her about he and Damon separating and how she had pieced together from there the time period that the dream took place in. Elena didn't mention what Damon had looked like, how different he had been; instead she barrelled into the second part of the dream. She talked about the strange girl with the black hair and eyes to match, how she compelled both horse and man to stop the carriage and then how she had attacked Damon before Elena had been woken up.

When Elena had finished, Bonnie was the first one to speak. "So… it was a nightmare?" she guessed.

"And a memory," Stefan added. His expression had turned grim. "And you're saying this happened straight after Damon had left me with Lexi?"

Elena nodded firmly. "I'm certain."

Stefan raked a hand through his hair, leaving it in a ruffled mess on his head. "Damon never told me about that, then again he never tells me much of anything." He glanced warily at Damon's unconscious form before sighing through his teeth. "She talked about the vampires at the church?"

"Yes," Elena said. "She wanted information about the spell, but Damon wouldn't tell her so she-" Elena broke off, finding she could talk no further. She'd seen the vampire move towards Damon, her teeth caught in a vicious beam of light, but afterwards… Elena didn't know what happened.

"It's alright," Stefan told her. "It was just a memory, whatever happened, happened."

"But why was he dreaming about it?" Elena asked warily.

Stefan shrugged. "He's feverish, when you're a vampire and you live as long as we do there are things you try to forget. Those memories are hardest to hide when you're at your weakest."

Elena looked at Damon, mystified. What kind of past was he hiding? Who had the girl been to Damon… what had she done to him? If the memory was something he himself tried to forget... Elena supressed a shiver.

* * *

><p>Stefan fastened the muzzle to his brother's face with care. It felt strange securing such a medieval device onto Damon, something that brought back memories for the both of them, had Damon been conscious to see it of course. Stefan was all too aware of Elena's eyes watching him as he finished the task, stepping back to regard his efforts.<p>

Damon, pale and unconscious, looked vulnerable even behind the muzzle. It was strange to think that not half an hour ago he'd attacked Elena, that he'd had the energy to do something like that. But then Elena had mentioned the dream she had found herself in; the dream she shared with Damon or Damon had shared with _her. _If whatever Damon had experienced had triggered a violent response, it could have very easily been the reason he'd awoken with nothing but blood on his mind and the urge to feed.

But who _was _the girl? That was still a mystery. Elena had described her as though describing a demon. Black hair and beautiful features, like a china doll, she'd said. Then, her description had gotten darker. The girl had eyes like coal; her emotions were both playful and predatory. Though she had looked like a teenager, something inside her spoke an age much older and much more terrifying. She had attacked Damon on the presumption he'd give her information, information about the spell Emily Bennett had cast on the church. She had _known _about the spell, something even Stefan hadn't known about at that time. A stranger to Mystic Falls and yet she had already been informed…

Stefan was knocked out of his thoughts when the door was flung wide and Caroline came bustling in, a pair of handcuffs gripped loosely in her hand. "Okay, my mom says this is just a loan. I didn't tell her what they were for exactly, just like you asked." Caroline rolled her eyes. "Like I'd tell her anyway, she has enough crap to deal with already."

Stefan breathed through his nose in an attempt to mask a sudden smile. There was something about Caroline's light-hearted tone that managed to ease his spirits, even when he was facing a dangerous situation he'd never encountered before. As he glanced about himself, he realised he wasn't the only one. Bonnie and Elena seemed a little brighter in the blonde's presence also.

Caroline handed the cuffs to Stefan with a grimace. Her eyes traced Damon's unconscious form, though she immediately looked away. "Ugh, it just doesn't feel right to me."

"Says the girl who once called him Satan Incarnate," Bonnie said mockingly.

"Actually, I said calling him Satan would be an _insult _to Satan," Caroline replied, shooting her friend a glare. "And it's not about that… it's just, I mean… it's hard to explain."

"I understand," Elena said quietly. She glanced towards Damon with a look of yearning. Stefan understood that look, and he couldn't help but pity her. "Damon's one of the strongest out of all of us and now he's reduced to this." Elena's eyes were bright with unshed tears. "It isn't right."

"It's unnatural," Bonnie affirmed with narrow eyes. "Literally, the curse is unnatural. But… hopefully Constance will respond soon and then we'll finally get somewhere."

As Stefan moved to fasten the cuffs to his brother's wrist, attaching Damon's arm to his headboard, he heard Elena's breath hitch from behind him. "Constance?"

"Oh, right, you don't know," Caroline said. "That person we know that can help Damon? Her name's Constance, she's this vampire bitch who helped some big evil witch called the Trickster write all these recipes on how to kill vampires."

Elena looked appalled. "Wait, _that's _the help you meant?"

"Apparently she and Damon know each other," Bonnie said with a roll of her eyes. "Anyway, she wrote the curse down in the grimoire we found; she's our best link to a cure."

Elena's expression seemed conflicted. She shook her head. "How can we be sure that she-"

"We're not," Stefan intervened. He locked his gaze onto Elena's, hoping to keep her steady, steering her away from panicking territory. "But she's the best lead we have and I think she'll help." Stefan gritted his teeth. "I _know _she will."

Elena held Stefan's gaze for a moment; her eyes glinted with an emotion he couldn't quite place. She seemed frustrated, hopeless and defeated, but there was something more to it than that. Something knowing. She glanced away before he could figure it out, clearing her throat. "Bonnie, Care, you two must be exhausted."

Caroline and Bonnie shared a look. "Elena…" Bonnie began.

"I know what you're going to say," Elena said before she could finish. "And I'm not leaving Damon, this is my fault."

Caroline gave her a sympathetic look. "It's not-"

"Stop." Elena held up her hand, looking at her friends defiantly as she did so. "Just because I'm staying in here, doesn't mean you two have to, it's late, you need to sleep."

Stefan knew that Caroline and Bonnie would do anything for Elena, and right now what she needed was to be with Damon. It was why, he supposed, the two didn't put up a fight when she practically herded them out of the room. Caroline was the last to leave, though she gave Stefan a look on her way out. _Keep an eye on her, _her eyes told him, _tell us if anything happens._

Once they were gone, and Stefan knew Elena was using her heightened senses to make _sure _they were gone, she heaved out a small sigh. "Y'know you could use some rest too," Elena said after a moment's pause. Her brown eyes fixated steadily on the younger Salvatore, holding a margin of pity for him. "When was the last time you slept?"

Stefan knew she was deflecting, using his problems as a means to keep from facing her own. He only shrugged. "It's not important."

"It is if we're meant to be looking after him," Elena said, and Stefan knew all she wanted was to move across the room, evade every obstacle that got in her way, and lay at Damon's side. He could see every muscle in her body fight the urge to comfort him, knowing that Damon didn't need that right now, especially after what had happened last time she'd been too close.

Stefan shook his head. "I'm fine." He looked at Elena pointedly. "Are you?"

Elena exhaled slowly before shaking her head. "No. I'm not. But that doesn't matter, not right now." Elena made a move and Stefan instantly stiffened, however, he needn't have worried, she simply pulled up an armchair at Damon's side and practically fell into it, all traces of vampiric grace completely spent. Her eyes flickered over Damon's unconscious form, her brow knotting in thought. "Is it really true, that this cure lies in the hands of some vampire that we don't even know?"

"Damon knew her."

Elena almost smiled. "And Damon has a track record for knowing dangerous and untrustworthy people."

"I'm not saying she isn't dangerous," Stefan said heavily. "In fact, from what I can tell, she might be very powerful. She worked alongside a witch that dealt with dark magic, her phone calls are controlled by compelled strangers." When Elena looked at him warily, Stefan could only shrug. "I left her a message; I left her another one while you were with Damon, too. I haven't had any kind of reply yet."

Elena leaned heavily into the chair. "Do you know if she cared about him?"

Stefan was thrown slightly by the question, half expecting to see some inkling of jealousy floating in the depths of Elena's gaze. Instead, he only saw a well-controlled curiosity. He smiled at her. "Damon knew her name and, if we can tell anything by Constance through the notes she kept or the message on her answering machine, I don't think she gives that information away to just anyone."

Elena's eyes dulled slightly. "Do you think they were together?"

And there it was. Not quite jealousy, but the curiosity flared into something a lot stronger than before. Stefan almost laughed. "I don't know," he said honestly. "Damon knew her a long time ago it seems, back when he was still fixated on all things Katherine. That didn't mean he wasn't… promiscuous." Stefan had to look away then, though a smile broke out across his lips. "This Constance… she sounds powerful, if he was _with _her, it wouldn't have been long term, it never was with Damon."

Elena nodded, seemingly intrigued. Stefan wondered for a moment how Elena felt being told about Damon's past encounters. Though Damon had never looked at anyone the way he looked at Elena, Stefan sometimes wondered how comfortable she felt with that kind of information being presented to her so crudely.

Instead of lingering, Elena cleared her throat, her eyes trailing back to Damon. "That dream I had…" she muttered. "The girl; she was powerful, and if Damon was dreaming about her he must have had a reason to." Elena looked up to Stefan, though he already knew what she was about to ask. "Do you think that might have been Constance?"

Stefan felt a coldness cling to his chest, making it difficult to breathe. The idea had crossed his mind, but he'd pushed it aside without a second thought. Now, he wasn't so sure. On all accounts, it made sense. If Constance was as powerful as he believed and Elena had described the girl in Damon's dream as demon-like, cruel and predatory…

"It's possible," he admitted, feeling his heart clench. Elena nodded as she leant back into the armchair. She never took her eyes from Damon who continued to lie as still as a corpse. In that silence, Stefan drew up his own chair and fell into it. Together, the two resumed the watch; keeping each other company in not so many words, but instead only in their presence at each other's side.

* * *

><p>During their watch, Stefan began to notice subtle changes in Elena's behaviour.<p>

In the hour or so they had been waiting for a change in his brother's state, Elena had gone from lounging in her armchair, eyes fixed on Damon, to back straight and hands clasped together. Now, she was biting her fingernails, a nervous habit he had noticed her do in the past. Stefan remembered how he used to find it cute. Still, under the circumstances, Stefan could only see this small gesture as a bad omen.

Stefan's thoughts were confirmed when Elena finally broke the silence. "It shouldn't be taking this long," she said, her voice strained. "It should never take more than an hour and it's been, what?" Elena's gaze held Stefan's in search for the answer. Stefan opened his mouth, but Elena only continued before he was able to talk: "It's been over an hour, I know that and he's not waking up. Stefan, why isn't he waking up?" Her voice cracked by the end of her sentence and Stefan knew Elena was nearing panicking territory. Her breathing was picking up as she assessed Damon's still-comatose position on the bed. Suddenly, she brought her hands to her mouth. "This is my fault," she breathed. "I did this and now he's not waking up and-"

"Hey!" Before Stefan could think better of it, he was standing up from his chair and walking the short distance towards Elena. Once he was there, he knelt down in front of her, grabbing her wrists and forcing her hands away from her face. He tried to ignore the tears that were beginning to tumble down her cheeks.

"Damon hasn't had any blood of any kind for almost twenty four hours, he's weak, extremely weak considering his body expelled all the blood at one time," Stefan said. "To be able to heal at an average vampiric rate, you need blood." When Elena's eyes began to trace away from him, Stefan only strengthened his hold. "Damon is healing, Elena, you hear me? He's going to be fine; it's just going to take longer."

Elena choked back a sob. "How much longer?"

Stefan felt his shoulders heave in defeat. He glanced away from her. "I'm not sure."


	9. Hunger

_A/N: _Ho-Ho-Holy crap it has been _way _too long since my last update. In my defence, my laptop has been freaking out on me lately and I just haven't gotten around to getting it fixed. _Then _of course I thought I might post this chapter on Christmas as a sort of gift to you guys but then alcohol was involved and I figured it wasn't the best idea, so here have a sort of late Christmas, early New Year's gift! Also, as always, thank you guys so much for the support and I hope you enjoy this chapter. :)

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><p><strong>Cursed Disease<strong>

_Chapter 9_

_"Hunger"_

Damon's head was killing him. As a matter of fact, his whole _body _was killing him.

Damon had never been this hungry before and, even if he had, he'd always been able to control it. That was the thing about being a hunter that made the chase so fun – to be in control every step of the way. To hold a human life perfectly in the balance, to be fully aware of how close you were from taking them from the world of the living. _That _was the exhilaration that Damon had learnt to attribute to the kill; something he had been taught a long, _long _time ago. But now an excruciating pain twisted in his gut, making Damon feel both sick and starving. A dull part of Damon's mind told him that he wouldn't be able to keep blood down even if he tried, but the brighter, hungrier part of him said to go for it anyway.

Fragments of memories flashed behind Damon's eyes as he struggled back into consciousness.

_Elena had been stood right in front of him, speaking words he couldn't hear. Her voice was drowned out, lost by every sound his heightened senses were throwing at him. It hurt, _everything hurt, _but he knew he could get rid of it. All he had to do was feed._

Damon's fingers twitched; he could feel the burn of fabric against his palms as he clutched tightly at his sheets.

_Suddenly, he was in front of Elena. His body had blurred without thinking and he'd slammed her roughly against the wall. He heard the crash like a freight train tearing through his skull, but he couldn't let go, the pain was too much, he'd come too far not to try and sate it. His fangs had extended - he could feel the sharp sting as they descended into his bottom lip. He could hear Elena's blood circulating, flooding through every vein in her body. The sounds and smells had been overwhelming as he finally moved in for the kill..._

Damon's eyes shot open, though he immediately regretted it. Despite the dullness of his room, a headache began to thrum away behind Damon's eyes, sending aches and pains all through his body. The most prominent of those radiated from his neck to his shoulders, reminding the older Salvatore of one final detail.

Damon groaned, though, finding that the noise sounded echoed and disjointed, he frowned. Something had been attached to his face, covering his mouth, making him feel increasingly claustrophobic.

A muzzle.

A damned _muzzle!?_

Damon tried to pry it off, but the familiar clank of chains notified him of the silver handcuffs that were now fastened to one of his wrists. Damon rattled them lamely before his head fell back in defeat.

"Well, look who's finally awake."

Damon's gaze traced the room until he found the source of the voice. Stefan was stood at his bedside, looking down at him with a hard, unfriendly expression. Damon closed his eyes, too exhausted to respond. He knew the reason for Stefan's anger, of course he did - he was getting flashes of what had happened even now. Damon hated himself for it, he hated the curse for making him do it but, most of all, he hated the fact that he hadn't been able to stop himself.

"Elena," Damon croaked, unable to will himself to say anything more.

Stefan seemed to soften where he stood, though his jaw still clenched rigidly. "I sent her to get some of the grimoires that were left downstairs." Stefan lowered his voice. "She hated seeing you like that."

Damon almost laughed. He wouldn't have wanted to see his sorry-ass state either. The humour faded soon enough as he thought back on what he'd done. He'd _attacked_ Elena. He hadn't meant to, but that wasn't the point. Damon had tried so hard to be better for her, and now he might have ruined it all in one simple gesture. A pain worse than all the curse could offer shot through Damon's chest. He turned his head away, afraid to meet Stefan's stern gaze. Instead, he jangled the chains in resentful question.

Stefan sighed. "We had to do it. You weren't in your right mind, Damon, you could have hurt someone."

_I could still hurt someone, _Damon thought bitterly. The hunger continued to twist his gut, after all. He felt sick and so _thirsty; _no matter what he told himself, he knew that just the mention of blood could set him off again. Damon closed his eyes, his face sinking further into his pillow. Everything _burned._

Suddenly, the door opened; a noise that sounded far too loud given the circumstances. Damon cringed as he heard every squeak the hinges had to offer as the door was forced open and, moments later, Elena walked inside.

Her scent was mouth-watering. Damon had to bite back the urge to growl.

Damon wanted to warn Elena away, especially after what he had just done, but he couldn't talk. His throat was bone dry and his neck still hurt like a bitch from where Elena had snapped it. All he could do was eye her warily as she moved towards Stefan, handing him an armful of grimoires before stopping dead in her tracks as her gaze finally found Damon. For one shocked moment, all they could do was look at each other.

Damon could hear the blood rushing through Elena's body, just like before. He closed his eyes, willing all his remaining strength into keeping calm, but it wasn't enough; he knew it wouldn't be enough.

The way Damon had tensely coiled his body must have alerted Stefan for suddenly he said, "Elena, you might want to step back."

Damon wanted to warn Stefan away as well, but all that came out was a choked gasp, which quickly turned into a coughing fit. Damon's lungs felt like they were exploding as he hunched over himself, hugging his chest tightly as he violently coughed over the sheets. He could feel hands holding him steady, but he was too exhausted to figure out who they belonged to. By the end of his fit, he wasn't in the least bit surprised to feel blood leaking from the front slits of his muzzle. His stomach churned uneasily as his veins burned with the promise of being fed, but Damon could do nothing about it, it hurt too much. Instead, he sagged against whoever was holding him and closed his eyes.

* * *

><p>Elena shot forward the minute Damon started coughing. She couldn't stop herself, she just acted.<p>

"Elena!" Stefan said, swearing under his breath.

Elena didn't pay him any attention, instead she held Damon steady as he coughed harshly, gasping for air. Elena cooed gently into Damon's ear, assuring him that everything would be okay, though she doubted he could hear her. With wide eyes, Elena watched as blood dribbled from behind the muzzle, splattering the white sheets. It was Elena's turn to swear as she reinforced her hold for all it was worth. She looked to Stefan, whose face had gone pale. He blurred into the bathroom before returning with a towel and wet cloth, urging Elena to give him room. Elena complied, but before Stefan could even wipe away the blood, Damon had sagged against her, his eyes fluttering shut. Unconscious.

"Oh my God," Elena yelped as she held Damon tightly. She quickly moved her gaze to Damon's chest, which was rising and falling with strained, but thankfully steady breaths. Elena squeezed her eyes shut with relief. _He's going to be okay, _she told herself sternly. She had to believe that. Damon Salvatore was going to be _fine._

"Elena," Stefan said, this time more gently.

Elena looked up at Stefan's haggard expression and felt a stab of guilt. She knew Stefan felt just as she did, after all, Stefan and Damon were brothers. They cared about each other, even at times when they hated each other's guts. It was part of who they were. Stefan had been there from the moment this had all started and, though Elena was angry with the younger Salvatore for keeping this from her, she realised Stefan had seen a lot more of Damon's condition. He'd been faced with all this pain the minute it had started. Elena let out a sigh through her teeth as she took the towel that Stefan was offering to her. "Thank you."

Stefan nodded solemnly. "I'm going to take the muzzle off of him."

Elena's eyes widened, but she didn't say anything against it. Damon was unconscious, the muzzle was only there as a precaution anyway. Besides, after what Elena had just witnessed, she doubted that Damon would have the strength to do much even if he were to gain consciousness whilst Stefan was cleaning him up.

Elena sat to one side as she watched Stefan unfasten the muzzle. He held it loosely in his hand as he used the other to wipe the smeared blood from Damon's mouth. Elena winced. Damon was just going from one extreme to the next. First, he'd been blinded with bloodlust, strong enough to hold Elena against a wall and now… now he was reduced to _this. _Elena felt her heart stutter. What if they were running out of time? How long would it take for this _Constance _to get here? A cold shiver jolted up Elena's spine with the thought of the black haired girl in Damon's dreams. Would Constance even have the answers? Who _was _she?

Numbly, Elena helped Stefan move Damon's head against his pillow, tucking him under the sheets. Damon's arm was still chained to the bedpost, but with the lack of a muzzle, his breathing had steadied somewhat. Elena let that small observation relax her as she settled into the armchair closest to Damon's side. She knew Stefan didn't want her to, but she couldn't help but reach for one of Damon's hands in support. His skin was warm and clammy to touch, but Elena didn't mind. She pressed her lips against his hand - ignoring the salty taste - and closed her eyes.

Elena didn't even notice that Stefan had left the room until she looked up and saw that he was holding a glass of water.

"It's not blood," Stefan said quietly, "but he needs to stay hydrated."

Elena nodded her head as she watched Stefan move towards the bed. Tenderly, he placed a hand against his brother's shoulder, rousing the older Salvatore just enough to elicit a small moan from him. Elena held Damon's hand tighter as his lids fluttered open, focusing unsteadily onto Stefan's concerned face. He opened his mouth to speak, but Elena shook her head. "Don't try to speak," she said as softly as possible, recalling the pained expression she'd seen on Damon's face when she'd entered with the grimoires earlier. "Just drink."

Damon eyed the water in Stefan's hand before giving a curt nod. His eyes were bright and fever dazed as Stefan held the glass up to Damon's lips, allowing him a few small sips before Damon pushed it away, teeth clenched tightly together.

"No more," he gasped, turning his head away. "Hurts."

Elena felt her chest tighten. Just a little while ago, Stefan had told her that water was one thing Damon could keep down. Now he was finding it difficult to _swallow. _She looked up to Stefan, hoping Damon didn't notice the desperation in her eyes. She didn't want him to see that she was scared; she didn't want to add to his discomfort. She just wanted to hold him and never let go, but she couldn't, not now, not when he was so hungry.

"You need to stay hydrated," Stefan said calmly, his voice betraying no emotion. That was what proved to Elena how terrified he really was. Stefan held the glass out steadily towards his brother. "Can you try to drink more?"

Damon shook his head before his eyes clenched tightly shut. He turned his head away and sucked in a pained gasp.

Elena tried to reinforce her hold on Damon's hand, but before she could, Stefan was there with the glass, never wavering for a second. "Come on Damon, just one more sip. Please?"

Something seemed to ignite inside Damon, because the moment Stefan had stopped speaking, he turned his head towards his little brother. Elena's eyes widened in alarm as she noticed the swell of red encompassing the whites of Damon's eyes. Damon bared his teeth at Stefan, revealing his now pointed fangs. Elena realised Stefan's mistake almost immediately, but not early enough to stop it. His arm had wavered too long and too close to Damon's face. Damon had caught the scent of his brother's blood.

"Stefan," Elena warned, but it was too late. Damon sat upright, the headboard groaning in protest as his chained arm moved along with him. Stefan took a step back in surprise, but Damon had already grabbed a hold of his brother's arm, latching his mouth over Stefan's wrist.

Black veins writhed under Damon's eyes as he attempted to drink from Stefan, who seemed far too stunned to try to pull away. Instead, Elena reacted.

Elena wasn't sure what she could do under the circumstances. She didn't want to _hurt _Damon, but she really had no other choice. As quickly as her vampiric speed would allow her, she jumped between the two brothers, effectively separating Damon's fangs from Stefan's wrist. Distantly, Elena heard Stefan yelling something at her, but she wasn't listening, she was far too focused on Damon who she was now sat on top of, practically straddling, as she held his chest firmly against the bedspread.

"Damon," she warned, but he wasn't listening. Stefan's blood glistened across Damon's lips as he snapped for Elena's neck. Elena closed her eyes in frustration. He was completely lost to the bloodlust.

But she wouldn't snap his neck again, she _couldn't. _Not after the scare they'd had the last time, no, instead she wanted to try a more diplomatic approach. Elena held Damon down by the shoulders, forcing their gazes to meet. "Damon!" she said again and - this time - she forced every ounce of her strength behind that one word. Focusing her gaze onto her boyfriend, his dark hair plastered to his face, body radiating heat like a furnace, Elena spoke with all the conviction she could muster, just as she would if she were compelling a human. "Calm down," she said, her eyes wide. "Stop this, Damon. Calm _down._"

For a second, Elena was sure it hadn't worked. How _could _it? Damon simply looked at her, his bloodshot eyes dazed and unfocused. Then, just as quickly as it had started, Damon relaxed. His body softened into the mattress as he continued to stare at Elena, chest heaving in unsteady spasms. Damon squinted at her, perplexed. "Calm," he said, though his voice came out slow, almost trance like. Elena watched in astonishment as Damon leant his head against his pillow, never taking his gaze from her. Finally, his eyes began to flutter with exhaustion and with a final sigh, he closed them as his breath began to steady. Elena stared down at Damon in utter shock. _Had she just…_

* * *

><p>Stefan didn't know what to say.<p>

One minute he'd been trying to get Damon to drink some water and then, faster than he thought was even possible for his ailing brother, Damon had managed to grab him. He'd felt the sting of Damon's fangs as he'd broken skin, but Stefan hadn't felt the need to pull away. It wasn't until Damon's grip on his wrist had become alarmingly painful that he thought to reconsider his next move.

That was when Elena had jumped in. _Literally. _She'd pounced onto Damon like a cat, knelt across his chest with the full strength of a vampire behind her. She forced Damon to pull away, but he'd continued to writhe under her, hissing and spitting like a truly rabid vampire. Stefan had shouted at Elena, hearing his own voice echoing in his head, but she hadn't listened. Instead, she'd done something truly stunning.

"Stop this, Damon. Calm _down!_"

Stefan had been at the perfect angle to see Elena's eyes, dark and determined as she stared into Damon's. Her pupils had contracted and, in response, Damon's had dilated. He'd stared at her. He'd _listened to her. _He calmed down just because she told him to.

Stefan had felt his mouth fall open even as Damon closed his eyes responsively.

Elena had _compelled him._

Now Stefan couldn't speak. Elena continued to stare at Damon who lay compliantly on the bed, his entire body relaxed. After what felt like hours, Elena lifted her gaze away from Damon, instead to look at Stefan incredulously. Stefan wasn't sure how to respond.

"Did I just…" Elena drew off, shaking her head.

Stefan's expression hardened. "It's impossible."

Elena nodded, agreeing with him dazedly. She placed a hand on Damon's face as if to study him, seemingly enthralled by what had happened. What she'd _done_. After a moment, Elena gently kissed Damon's forehead before clambering off of him, though Stefan could tell she was still in shock. What she had done… it really _was _impossible. Stefan had never heard of a single vampire that wasn't an Original that could compel another. It just didn't happen. Stefan watched idly as Elena's gaze moved down to his wrist where Damon's bite had already healed, leaving only a twin trail of blood to prove it had ever happened.

"Are you alright?" Elena asked.

Stefan was about to answer when there were three sharp knocks on the bedroom door.

"Guys, what's going on? We heard yelling and… other stuff." It was Caroline, her voice sounded wary.

Stefan cursed internally. He had completely forgotten that Bonnie and Caroline were sharing a bedroom just a few doors down the hall. He'd been reckless in getting too close to Damon. And even after that, when Damon had latched onto his arm, he hadn't thought to fight him off, he'd waited too long. So long that Elena had had to intervene. Stefan closed his eyes. She could have ended up getting hurt, all because he'd been too stunned to do anything about it.

"It's fine," Stefan said, though Caroline and Bonnie had already made an appearance. Caroline's eyes widened when she saw the blood that had spread down across Stefan's forearm.

"What the Hell, that is _not _fine!" Caroline said.

Bonnie was looking towards Elena, concern etched onto her face. "What happened?"

Elena took a small breath before she met gazes with Stefan. Something passed between the two, a message – a silent agreement not to say a word about what Elena had done.

"Stefan got too close," Elena said quickly. "Damon attacked him, but it's alright. We broke it up."

Caroline moved over to study Damon who was on all accounts unconscious on the bed. She seemed to be studying his mouth in particular, the bloody smears that were still present on his lips.

"He… fed on you?" Caroline asked.

Stefan's eyes widened as he thought back. Though it had felt a lot longer, Damon had managed to bite him for only a few seconds before Elena had come between them. In that time, Stefan was sure Damon had taken at least a few mouthfuls of blood. Stefan looked to Elena who was staring back at him in shock. She'd come to the same conclusion. They both looked down at Damon.

"Wait, so he did?" Caroline asked.

"Seriously?" Bonnie added.

Stefan blinked in surprise and was about to answer them both when his phone beeped in his pocket.

In response to the noise, Damon groaned where he was lying. Elena immediately moved towards him, but held herself back, actively aware that Damon could wake in the same state as he had been before. Whether or not he had listened to Elena didn't matter, he could easily attack again. Stefan fished out his phone just as Damon's eyes snapped open. The older Salvatore groaned out again before rolling onto his side, leaning his head just over the edge of his bed. Stefan knew what was going to happen, if it wasn't already obvious by the way Damon's face had paled or the fact that he was swallowing convulsively.

"Damon-?" Elena asked, but she never finished her sentence for Damon suddenly heaved over the side of the bed and promptly began to vomit blood onto the floor.

Caroline wrinkled her nose as she took a step back, taking Bonnie along with her. Elena had only just managed to back away in time, but quickly returned, manoeuvring herself around the puddle of vomit and placing her arm comfortingly around Damon's back as he spat the last of Stefan's blood onto the floor.

Elena glanced to the door, then to her two friends. "Would you guys mind getting something to clean this up?"

Bonnie nodded. "On it."

Caroline blinked, but quickly followed her friend out the door, shooting both Stefan and Elena a sympathetic look before disappearing outside.

During the commotion, Stefan hadn't had time to check his phone. Glancing down at the screen, he felt a swell of a relief to find a text message from Constance Childes.

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><p><em>20 hours. Count the crows.<em>

* * *

><p>Stefan frowned down at the text. <em>Count the crows, what the Hell does that mean?<em> Glancing up from his phone, Stefan found Elena sat next to Damon, wiping his mouth with a cloth. Damon was still laid on his side, eye closed, his free arm wrapped tightly around his stomach. Elena was rubbing his back, whispering meaningless words into his ear. It seemed to be working; the tension in Damon's body was slowly leaving him, though his eyes remained closed.

_20 hours. _Did they really have that long?


End file.
